Don't Look Back Into The Sun
by Froody
Summary: James' eyebrows inched higher and higher. "So Moony has to do whatever you ask? Anything?" - Remus and Sirius have struck a deal. But where's Sirius going with this? And what happens if Remus says no?  R/S
1. The Deal

**A/N: Hello! Thanks for clicking by. Wild applause for ObsidianEmbrace, beta and motivator extraordinaire. **

**Disclaimer: Thanks to JK for the world, _Skins_ for the general storyline prompt, and _The Libertines_ for the story title. **

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Thursday night saw Remus Lupin hunched on a sofa with his fingers in his ears.

It wasn't that he was a bookworm, or a killjoy, or a prose-loving pervert (thanks, Sirius) – it was just that the test was _tomorrow_, and Slughorn had seemed so hopeful that he'd pass this time, and there was nothing Remus hated more than letting people down – except for maybe Potions.

But _honestly_, if he hadn't melted his twelfth cauldron that morning, Remus would have happily force-fed a Calming Drought to the entire castle. High spirits pressed aggressively in around him. Even with the protection of an enormous mouldy library book, there was simply no way Remus could concentrate with those bloody paper aeroplanes swooping back and forth beneath his nose.

"Alone at the eye of a social storm, Moony? No surprises there, mate."

Remus heaved the book shut with a groan. That was that, then. Concentration was out of the question when Sirius Black felt inclined to converse. Despite himself, Remus was unable to put any real feeling behind the glare that he now turned on Sirius. The best intentions in the world couldn't dull the shock of pleasure that Remus always felt at the sound of Sirius' voice.

Remus wouldn't send Sirius away, of course. Obviously he'd tell him to shove off, but he wouldn't mean it, not really. Remus softened under those wicked grey eyes like butter in a Muggle microwave – not that Sirius was allowed to know that. Remus could only imagine what hideous exploitation would result from such dangerous knowledge. In all likelihood, Remus would find himself strapped to a Filibuster firework heading skyward within a week.

It was, all things considered, in the interests of the world at large that Remus should shield his delight with characteristic disapproval and deprecation.

"Alas, no more," he said, injecting the correct, wry tone into the words. "You have rescued me from a life of isolation. Well done. Now, either explain the theory behind Divination Distillation, or bugger off promptly. Please."

Sirius glanced at the title of Remus' textbook and gave a loud snort. "You've as much chance of understanding Potions by tomorrow as I have of avoiding arrest before the age of twenty-five."

Remus stared down at the cover of his book with a strong sense of approaching doom. "Is it all that bad?" he asked hopelessly.

"Worse," said Sirius with a careless shrug. "But forget that; did you like my paper aeroplanes?"

Forgetting his impending Potions failure for a moment, Remus snapped his head up and glared. "That was _you_?"

"Nice, weren't they? Went wherever I wanted them to go and everything," Sirius said happily, ignoring Remus' indignation with the ease of experience. "A simple swooping charm, that's all. We'll never have to pass plebian notes again; ours will travel business class, Moony."

"Aeroplanes and motorbikes – is that all you learn in Muggle Studies? And why couldn't you have tried them out on Wormtail?" Remus gesticulated irritably to the opposite corner of the common room, where Peter was losing a game of gobstones in spectacular fashion. "Look, no homework in sight. You targeted me deliberately, didn't you?"

"Friends don't let friends become hermits, Moony," Sirius said fondly, pawing the inconvenient textbook out of his way as he slid expertly into Remus' personal space. Remus swallowed and edged back, but it was no use. "Only thing saving you from being the dullest wizard in the world is your little furry problem."

"I am _not_ a hermit," Remus muttered, not even bothering with his well-practiced huff of exasperation. He lifted his hands out of the way of a crushing as Sirius sprawled out along the entire length of the sofa, head and feet at either end, torso cushioned by Remus' legs. Remus peered disapprovingly down at Sirius, who smirked and pushed a careless hand though his hair, prodding Remus' narrow chest along the way.

James would have launched Sirius from his lap and onto the floor in five seconds flat. Remus, however, didn't really mind being used as furniture. Sirius squirmed about restlessly, shoulder blades digging painfully into Remus' thighs, but Remus did no more than poke him in the stomach and feel quietly pleased at the contact.

Just as a helpless smile was starting to pull at the corner of Remus' mouth, Sirius opened his, and made Remus reconsider James' approach.

"You are too a hermit, Lupin. Loony, loopy Lupin." Sirius rapped on the front cover of Remus' book to the rhythm of the chant. "Loony, loopy – you know, if ever a false description was penned by a poltergeist…"

"Oh, I don't know," said James, entering the conversation without a word of greeting. He'd clearly come straight from Head Boy duty; he had the telltale boils on his face. Sirius gave James a mock salute as he swung himself into the armchair opposite, tapping his chin as if in thought.

"Remember that time in Charms, third year, when –"

Sirius interrupted, waving his hands furiously and nearly knocking Remus' head off. "When I made you do that Cheering Charm with two wands and a blindfold, ha, and Moony got hit –"

" – and swept Flitwick away on a waltz right through to the staff room!" James finished, face distorted with hilarity. "And Dumbledore didn't even flinch, just tapped Moony on the shoulder and asked to cut in!"

The two boys collapsed into great wheezing gasps of laughter, leaving Remus flushed red with embarrassment and quite determined to Obliviate himself, his friends, and the entire school for good measure. He'd hoped they'd forgotten all about it; Flitwick certainly acted like he had. Well, he supposed it served him right for befriending the two cleverest idiots at Hogwarts.

"Courage, fellow prefect," came a cool voice of comfort, and Remus raised his head high enough to give Lily an appreciative sort of grimace. Meanwhile, James rose from his chair, gave one last distracted snort of laughter, and drifted off after that cool voice with nary a word of farewell to his friends.

"Well, there goes the Grand High Lord of Loopiness," said Sirius waspishly, staring after James with a frown. Before Remus could do more than quirk his mouth sympathetically, Sirius had shaken his head and resumed his teasing.

"Tell you what, you ought to go mental more often, Moony… It's unbelievably amusing. Now come on, how about some swooping origami, then? Ten points if you hit Wormy's nose."

Remus shook his head. "Not tonight, Padfoot. Fetch Prongs back; I'm sure he'd love a go, and Lily would probably appreciate it too."

"Then come to the kitchens, go on. I'd ask Pete, but the house-elves have refused to serve him since he… Well, you were there."

"So I was," muttered Remus, shaking his head and remembering the stains. "Believe me, I was; but no, Sirius, I can't go. Not tonight."

The scowl had darkened Sirius' face before Remus had even finished speaking. "It's always 'no, no, no' with you, Moony. No fun at all. Your stuffiness is selfishness, it is."

Remus did not feel inclined to agree. In fact, he felt more inclined to shove Sirius from his lap, and did so. Not even Sirius could make falling off a sofa look dignified. A group of fourth year girls at the next fireplace lapsed into giggles at the sound of the squawk and thump, and when Sirius rolled onto his stomach, hair in his eyes, his pride was clearly wounded.

Remus smirked. No fun indeed.

When Sirius next spoke, having raised himself haughtily to his elbows, his voice became brusque and businesslike. "Tell you what, Moony… I really think you ought to loosen up a little."

"I am loose," Remus protested, a bit hurt by this allegation. "I am highly loose. You caught me on a bad night, that's all. I've got this bloody test…"

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow's Potions – but then Saturday's prefect duties, and Sunday's homework, and then ever more tests and trials, and before you know it, you'll end up all shriveled into a hapless old husk of a hermit with good grades and a life of regrets."

Despite knowing better, Remus couldn't help the coil of anger that tightened in his stomach at this little speech.

"Maybe you're the one who should brush up on his Divination potions, Sirius," he said mildly, but was unable to wipe all traces of irritation from his voice. Those words had hit home rather more painfully than Sirius could have intended.

Not that he'd ever tell the others, but Remus had never quite accepted his place in their marauding group of four. He wasn't a James or Sirius, or even a Peter. For one thing, he was rather quiet twenty-nine days of the month. For another, he possessed a working set of morals. Secretly, and very deep down, he still expected to be dropped for someone who bore rather less of a resemblance to a wet blanket. And Sirius' careless words had given the old doubt claws.

He dropped his eyes, but he could still feel Sirius watching him.

"You just need to learn to say yes sometimes, that's all."

Sirius' voice was gentler now, almost like he'd noticed something of Remus' discomfort – but this clumsy attempt at kindness did nothing but irritate, and Remus found himself scowling in a very uncharacteristic way.

"_You_ need to start taking things more seriously," he snapped before he could stop himself. He clamped his mouth shut, faintly shocked. Sticks in the mud snapped; Remus Lupin did not. And he certainly didn't criticize his friends.

"Do I."

Sirius' voice was dangerously low. He kicked out against the sofa legs, an unmistakable glint of challenge in his eyes. Remus leaned back into the cushions with growing dread, and wondered just what he'd started.

"Yeah, maybe I do," Sirius continued, because Sirius Black met every challenge head-on. "We're in the seventh year, after all. We're on the brink of war. We are," he said abruptly, pulling himself onto the sofa and staring at Remus, "about ready for a change, aren't we?"

Remus stared back, his stomach curling in on itself. He could feel heat rising up his neck – from shame, from anger, and most of all, from the intensity of those dark grey eyes. Sirius hardly blinked. His face was a bare foot away, and Remus could feel the insistent warmth of his breath on his cheeks.

"A change?" he repeated weakly, gripping his Potions book with white knuckles, feeling about ready to swoop away with the aeroplanes.

"A change," Sirius confirmed. "Let's make a deal, Moony. From now on, you will start saying yes when you're asked to do something."

"What? Anything?" Remus interrupted wildly, but Sirius silenced him with a raised hand. There was a touch of a mocking smile on his lips.

"Anything within reason. Within what _I_ say is reasonable."

"Oh, Merlin," said Remus numbly. "That excludes approximately nothing. And what exactly would _I_ get out of this deal?"

Sirius smirked. "I will make the ultimate sacrifice, Moony, and start to take things more seriously. As you so _kindly _suggested."

This was, Remus silently noted, one of the most ridiculous things that Sirius had ever proposed. And yet he felt almost inclined to accept the deal, whether from some misguided thirst to prove himself, or pure Gryffindor stubbornness, or from the fact that he never could say no to Sirius when he was looking at him like that.

And then, before he knew it, Remus found his hand being shaken, and the telltale tingle of magic traveling through his arm.

"What was that?" he demanded as Sirius' smile widened suspiciously. "Did you just _hex_ me?"

Sirius shrugged in a would-be casual manner. The intensity had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. "I just made the deal more – interesting. I'll be able to tell if you've said no, that's all. Don't worry, it binds me, too."

"_Binds_–"

"I wonder what people will ask you to do, Moony," said Sirius distractedly, casting his gaze across the common room with a look of unmistakable glee. "Someone might ask you to put down your book, imagine that. Someone might - ask you out."

Pausing, Sirius glanced sideways at Remus, who promptly flushed with discomfort. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he wished it wouldn't. He didn't want anyone to ask him out, particularly if he'd be forced to say yes – well, that wasn't entirely true, but all the same, he'd appreciate it if Sirius looked away now, and stopped making Occlumency lessons look so attractive.

Finally, mercifully, Sirius shook his head and turned from Remus with an indecipherable smile. "Someone might ask you to help him construct an armada of paper aeroplanes while he works on his swooping charms."

"Someone might remind you to take things a bit more seriously, Padfoot," Remus responded in a carefully even voice, gently extricating his hand from Sirius' vice-like grip. He shook his fingers out, and tried not to shiver at the loss of contact. His heart was still pounding away at an alarming rate, and he rather hoped that Sirius had cast that binding charm correctly.

"True," Sirius said with a grimace. "Cruel and unusual, that is. But now that you say it, I should probably go and ask Flitwick for a resit on the swooping charm test. I became – distracted – during the first one. Figured out how to fold an aeroplane." He grinned and winked at Remus. "Or maybe I should take him on a waltz. Might help him forget the test, if you know what I mean."

As Sirius made to stand up, Remus grabbed at his sleeve, suddenly overcome with anxiety. What on earth had he let Sirius get him into this time?

"What if I'm asked to do something really stupid, Padfoot? Like break into a teacher's office, or, or snog Mrs Norris!"

Sirius' eyes widened. "Do stop giving me such ideas, Moony."

But as Remus continued to glare in a panicked sort of way, Sirius gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, eyes softening. "You know I'd never make you do anything truly stupid. I just want you to put yourself out there a bit. Stop being so scared of tripping up. There are more important things out there, you know."

"No Mrs Norris," Remus said firmly, feeling reassured despite himself.

"No bloody cats," Sirius agreed, face returning to a wicked grin. "But I'll make no more promises now, Moony. Merlin forbid I don't take them seriously."

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**Thanks for reading - please review! **

**x Froody**


	2. It Begins With A Bang

**A/N: Hello hello! Thanks so much to those who left reviews for Chapter One - you pushed me through the second-chapter-blues. :) A special thanks to ObsidianEmbrace for the excellent beta work. **

**Allons-y!**

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It was the beginning of the end, and it sounded like Peter's voice.

"Help me with my Defence notes, Moony, go on."

Typical Peter, it was. But today, Remus felt more than typically irate.

Say yes now, and he would become a slave to Sirius' game. Say no, and he could well explode into a shower of Remus confetti. This bloody deal was magically binding, after all; there was no knowing what would happen if Remus tried to reverse the insanity. Sirius' talent for creative destruction was demonstrably limitless, and limitlessly demonstrable.

It was with much reluctance that Remus met Peter's wide, beseeching eyes – but really, he supposed he was lucky he hadn't been asked to do something worse. He tried not to dwell on the word 'yet' as he pulled Peter's notes across the bed towards him.

"Cheers," grinned Peter, and, turning back to the house of cards currently under construction on Sirius' bed, began a hunt for structural weaknesses.

This was, Remus had to admit, an exceedingly important task. More than one set of eyebrows was on the line – or rather, in the line of fire. His had only just returned to an unsinged state after that last pack of Exploding Cards. It had all been fun and games until Sirius had convinced Peter to play Fifty-Two Pick Up on James' four-poster bed.

And speak of the devil.

"Busy, Moony Moo?"

Remus looked up rather sourly from Peter's scribble-filled parchment and met Sirius' dancing eyes. "_Yes_," he hissed through his teeth, silently cursing the Ignoble House of Black and its familial line of persuasive charm.

At that, James hauled himself to his elbows so that Remus could just see the scruffy black top of his head. He had come into the dormitory moments earlier and promptly collapsed on the floor, possibly in an act of self-preservation at the sight of Peter's explosive card tower. The sound of an aggravated Remus appeared sufficiently curious to overpower his fear of first-degree burns.

Sirius smirked, and Remus' treacherous stomach twisted for no good reason at all. It twisted for a series of bad reasons, beginning with the glint in the narrowed grey eyes, and ending somewhere around the gallingly smug set of Sirius' shoulders. Such reasons did not, in Remus' humble opinion, justify a twisting of the stomach, and he really wished Sirius would stop biting at his lip in such a predatory way.

Then the sound of Sirius' voice reminded Remus of the social perils of staring, and he hastily steered his eyes back down to Peter's notes.

"Excellent. And what else have you said yes to today?"

Schooling his features into a most dour expression, Remus prodded at Peter's notes with a quill. His stomach absolutely refused to untwist.

Sirius grabbed the untidy scroll of parchment, squinted at the scrawl passing for words, and threw up his hands. "Trust you to abuse the sacred tenets of the deal! Remus Lupin, you should not be saying yes to other people's homework. This is leading you further down the hermit path, it is."

And with that, Sirius drew himself haughtily up at the end of Remus' bed, glaring down in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of an irate Professor McGonagall mid-lecture.

"Sirius proclaims all homework-related requests to be _unreasonable_."

"Padfoot, have you gone wrong?" came James' voice from below. "I must confess myself bemused by the nonsense you spout. And you do spout it, you know."

"He hasn't gone wrong, he was never right in the first place," Remus growled beneath his breath, shoving aside the essay. Unreasonable, was it? Well, Remus was hardly going to continue attempting to decipher Peter's notes if the Great Sirius Black deemed it _unreasonable_ –

"Temper, temper," said Sirius virtuously, poking Remus in the side. "Really, I've never seen you so vicious outside of a full moon. But you'll be thanking me soon enough, I've no doubt."

Remus had enough doubt for the world.

"That's it," said James with finality. He heaved himself upright, crossed his legs and fixed his friends with a look of impatient curiosity. "Out with it, the both of you. You've gone and convinced Moony to do something stupid, haven't you?"

Sirius produced a rather wounded sound that fooled nobody.

James sighed. "S'not really fair, is it, Padfoot? You know he can never bring himself to say no to you."

Remus was unable to withhold a choking sort of sound. "I'm right here, you know," he huffed, slightly offended and wholly disconcerted. Was he really as easy to read as all that?

"It's true, Moony," said Peter, turning from his tower with a meaningful look. "Face it: you're putty in his hands. He's the one who gets you to sanction our pranks."

"Listen to the man," James advised, clearly struggling to keep a straight face; Peter was hardly one to talk, what with his own specific case of Marauder adulation. "But we think none the less of you for it, it's just the Moony Way, so let's drop it and find out what he's having you do this time."

Remus groaned inwardly. That had been close to an order, and it wasn't like he could say no, could he? He looked to Sirius appealingly.

"They'll make me do stuff, Padfoot… You know they will."

"We won't," said James stoutly, eyes gleaming with interest behind his crooked wire spectacles. "Will we, Wormtail?" he added, nudging Peter in the side and nearly causing an explosion.

Peter shook his head eagerly.

Remus sank back against the headboard, resentment personified, as Sirius explained the deal in an entirely offhand manner. He made it sound like he coerced people into similar arrangements every second Tuesday.

James' eyebrows had inched higher and higher as he listened. "So Moony has to do whatever you ask him to? Whatever _we_ ask him to? _Anything_?"

"Anything," Remus confirmed in a dry, long-suffering voice. "And I've no idea how long I'll have to keep saying yes. The nightmare only started last night. I've paper cuts like you wouldn't believe from folding paper aeroplanes."

But James didn't seem to be listening. Instead, he was staring sideways at Sirius, brow furrowed. Remus watched, slightly disgruntled, as Sirius met James' eyes. He almost looked defensive with his arms crossed like that.

But just as James opened his mouth, Peter cleared his throat and broke the tension. "Hold up," he said slowly, staring at Sirius. "You're meant to be taking stuff seriously, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am," said Sirius gravely. Remus rolled his eyes. As far as he could tell, Sirius was yet to take _anything_ seriously.

"Then why are you letting me build an exploding house of cards on your bed?"

"Fair point." Sirius strode towards his bed, sending Peter scurrying. He paused at the foot of his four-poster and surveyed the tower, which managed to look highly explosive in a very fragile way.

Remus cringed and pressed his hands to his eyebrows.

There was a very loud absence of explosion. Instead of determining the most explosive way to destroy the tower as he might have done on a normal Friday, Sirius merely circled his bed, hands raised, a contemplative frown on his face.

It was almost like he was being _careful_.

James' eyes bulged. "Moony, you've broken him!"

Remus wondered; only, he wouldn't have used the word 'broken'. And really, if anything, Sirius had broken himself.

As Sirius shot them all a look of derisive amusement, James puffed up like an incensed and anxious mother hen. "That's it. Peter, kitchens. Make Moony go."

Slightly bemused by James' reaction, Remus slid from the bed and put his quill on his bedside table. Without another word, James none-too-gently ushered him towards the door, pushing Peter out with him.

Remus grabbed the door before James could shut it in their faces. Guilt had sliced through his conscience in a most undeserving way, and he felt a crazy need to explain himself. "Prongs–"

"Come with me, then," interrupted Peter, taking his elbow and hauling him away before he could say another word. The door slammed shut behind them.

Though he knew it wasn't really his fault, Remus glowered at Peter, who shrugged in a rather weary way and gestured to the door.

"Look, Moony, the way I see it, they've kicked us out so James can bitch at Sirius in privacy. Thing is, they're probably talking about you right now, aren't they?"

Remus thought and then nodded, chest twanging uncomfortably. He didn't like this impromptu exclusion any more than Peter. And James had looked disturbingly serious while chivvying them out. And Remus really didn't like the idea that he was being _talked about_.

He sighed. It hardly mattered if he didn't like it, in the end. There was nothing to be done. "Kitchens, then?" he said with a tired smile.

"For me, yes," said Peter, a rather wicked glint in his beady eyes. "For you, no. You have to do what I tell you to, right? Well, I say you're to stay here and listen in on their conversation." He straightened to his full, if diminutive height, and there was something of defiance etched on his round face. "Unlike you, I don't have to do whatever they tell me, you know."

Remus nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude for Peter, and more than a hint of envy. Then he frowned, remembering. "But the house-elves…"

"They might not let _me_ in, but Wormtail might have a chance."

Grinning, Remus waved Peter off, and then edged his way back towards the door. Quite apart from having to comply with Peter's order, Remus had a very personal interest in the tête-à-tête occurring inside the seventh year boys' dormitory. Peering warily up and down the spiral staircase, he crouched by the door and pressed his ear to the keyhole. The dormitories were magically soundproofed, as the boys had discovered rather early in their Marauding careers, but being a werewolf had certain advantages, and it was time to put that enhanced hearing to use.

He concentrated hard, and after a moment, the muffled murmuring sounds from within the room resolved into distinct voices.

"From paper planes to what? Could backfire, couldn't it? In a manner of speaking."

This was James, and it sounded like he was berating Sirius for something. His words were met with a silence that was audibly mulish.

"Don't wreck things with a game, Pads. You're taking stuff seriously now, yeah? Well, this is number one."

It was all exasperatingly cryptic. Remus felt as clueless as he had in his Potions test that morning, and that level of cluelessness was highly stressful. Of course this deal situation could backfire. As far as Remus was concerned, the whole thing was a backfire waiting to happen, as inevitable as the collapse of Peter's tower and the incineration of everyone's personal possessions.

Though he had no idea why James would choose to become the champion for Remus' dignity at this late point in their undignified careers.

When Sirius spoke, it was in a low and resentful voice that Remus had rarely heard him use on James. "This won't wreck things, you prat. And of course I'm taking it seriously… I just – I'm just trying to. You know." He paused, and Remus had to strain his ears to hear the words when they finally came.

"He'll never say yes otherwise. Wouldn't even humour the thought, I reckon. So if this gets him to even consider the idea of a – a _relationship_," he said with a great bark of mirthless laughter, "well, it'll be a deal well-done."

Remus froze as he was, ear pressed to the door and all. A couple of fifth years climbed past him up the staircase, but Remus barely even brought himself to cringe at their funny looks. Sirius was playing _matchmaker_? That's what this deal was about?

Remus felt sharply and unexpectedly upset. Something kicked out against his ribs, and his fingers clawed into his palms. It wasn't just the humiliating insinuation that he couldn't manage romantic stuff by himself, even if he'd wanted to; it was something else, something intrinsically connected to Sirius' efforts to pass Remus off to someone else.

It didn't make any sense at all, and really, it was pathetic, but that didn't prevent Remus from feeling betrayed.

As he crouched painfully by the doorknob, back beginning to twinge at the angle, James and Sirius continued to speak. Each word fed the dull ache in his chest.

"But, Pads, you don't even know he – well, do you?"

"Not as such, but you've seen –"

"I suppose there is certain evidence, but Merlin, Sirius, I'm a bloke. I don't notice these things. These things are beyond my notice, and I like it that way."

There was another pause, and then: "It's our seventh year, Prongs. He needs a push. Or we'll all four of us end up hermitted in a cave somewhere past Hogsmeade, thinking about what could have been."

James heaved a heavy sigh, and then came the sound of creaking bedsprings as he presumably sank onto a four-poster. "Well, it's done now, Sirius. Just _be careful_, alright, or Merlin knows, this could all end in –"

There was a resounding boom, and acrid smoke puffed out through the crack beneath the door.

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**_Tune in next time _for some rather more exciting/humiliating 'yes' moment_s._ Please take 4.7 seconds to tell me what you thought of this chapter.**

**Note: If you replace the word 'eyebrows' with 'pants' in this chapter, it's a bit hilarious. Erm. I'll go now, shall I?**

**x Froody**


	3. Bathtubs and Trials

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I'm been all wrapped up in work, haven't even squeezed out a gingerbread house yet. I'm extremely grateful for the speedy work of Wonder-Beta ObsidianEmbrace. Reviewers, thanks so much - you directly inspired the chapter. I hope you like it, bubbles, violence and all.**

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"Walk with me."

Remus turned on his heel and complied. No matter that Transfiguration was starting in three minutes in the opposite direction. No matter that Lily had a look on her face that could fell an offended hippogriff. No matter that Sirius was left mid-sentence with a hurt sort of scowl on his face.

He matched Lily's deliberate strides as they headed back along the corridor, choosing not to mention Transfiguration, McGonagall and imminent expulsion. There was simply no arguing with Lily Evans, even under normal circumstances.

To tell the truth, Remus had been wary around witches ever since he'd overheard Sirius talking about relationships in the dormitory. He didn't want to give Sirius the least hint of encouragement, and so had spent the last week skirting past girls in corridors. But this was Lily, and Sirius wouldn't _dare_, and anyway, they'd been approaching a veritable mass of gloss and curls, and Lily was Escape Option One.

When she thrust open the door to an empty classroom and motioned Remus inside, he walked straight in. Honestly, it was a relief to get away from the others. It had not been a pleasant morning and he could do with a distraction. He really hoped that the cause of Lily's current distemper had nothing to do with him.

And then the door clicked curtly shut, and Lily rounded on him with eyes as green and fiery as a Floo-powdered fireplace.

"If Sirius told you to fling yourself into the lake and perform a Mermish mating dance, would you do it?"

So much for hoping.

Remus dug his hands into his pockets and slumped back against the nearest desk with a strangled sort of sigh. "I wouldn't have a choice." Struck by a thought that tasted unpleasantly of Divination Distillation, he looked up with anxious eyes. "You won't, er, mention the idea to him, will you?"

Lily threw up her hands. "Ridiculous," she muttered, throwing another furious glare at Remus before joining him on the desk. "You boys are ridiculous, and stubborn, and idiotic, and oblivious. It's all going to blow up in your faces, you'll see."

"Already has," said Remus matter-of-factly. "You should see our dormitory."

Lily gave him a reproachful look. "I thought there was one person I could trust to take things seriously in this school, Remus."

"Ah. That would be Sirius."

Remus received a smack on the arm for this remark. It hurt more than it should have, landing as it did on an area victimised by the previous full moon. Still, he was rather more pained by the unfairness of the whole sodding situation.

He tried not to flinch away as Lily's smacking hand returned, but he met her rueful smile when she pulled him in for a repentant one-armed hug.

"What tipped you off to my present state of patheticness, then?"

"It _might_ have been the way you chose to end your sentences in Charms."

"Hmm," said Remus, nodding slightly. "I can see how that may have been a clue."

"Flitwick certainly seemed to pick up on it fairly quickly. I'd offer my condolences for your detention tonight, but you sincerely don't deserve them."

Remus let his head fall down into his palms. "I hate James. He told me to do it, you know. 'Refer to our esteemed Professor Flitwick as 'baby' for the entirety of one Charms lesson,' he said. 'He won't mind; gets it all the time from the house-elves.'"

Lily almost managed to stifle a snort of laughter. "That was _James_? But you told Flitwick it was Sirius' fault, _baby_."

Remus shrugged, suddenly feeling a good deal better at the memory of Sirius' affronted face. "It was his fault. Somewhat indirectly." Guilt niggled very gently at his conscience – after all, Sirius had been working his way back into Flitwick's good books with the second swooping charm test – but he suppressed the feeling with little difficulty.

"Well, you've four whole hours in detention tonight to wangle an apology from him, Remus. But really, if I were you, I'd spend my time figuring out how to say no to people before someone asks you to do something truly unpleasant, like – "

"A Mermish mating dance, got it," Remus groaned, shaking his head. Lily didn't know the half of it. He wished he _could_ say no.

Feeling helpless, he looked to Lily and found her toying absently with her Head Girl badge. She looked thoughtful, and Remus was suddenly glad that she didn't know about the deal. He had somehow managed to retain a piece of dignity in the space of their friendship, and he didn't think he could bear to have it taken away.

And besides, if she knew what Remus had agreed to, Lily would probably cook up some orders of her own in order to teach him a lesson in self-respect. Remus straightened with alarm at the thought.

"You're right," said Lily briskly, stretching her arms above her head and catching her sleeve on her Head Girl badge. "We'd better get a move on before McGonagall hunts us down in person."

"You'll be alright," Remus muttered, heaving himself from the desk and heading for the door. "She likes you. Me, she sees only as an aider and abettor of the Terrible Two."

"Sounds fairly accurate to me," said Lily, shooting Remus a dark look that quickly melted into a smile. He grinned weakly back.

As they walked through the corridors, Remus thinking gloomily of the N.E.W.T.s-addled McGonagall that lay ahead, Lily patted his arm with a rather less comforting snort of laughter. "Just call her 'baby'. That seemed to do the trick with Flitwick."

Remus' eyes widened in horror.

* * *

"Two detentions in one day." Sirius shook his head proudly, giving a sharp salute with his sponge and showering Remus in violet soapsuds. "My, my, Moony. We'll make a proper Marauder of you yet."

Standing at the other end of the enormous, empty Prefect's bathtub, Remus growled beneath his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," muttered Remus, casting an apprehensive look at the taps lining the walls of the tub. They had the nasty habit of spouting spontaneous streams of bubbles, and he didn't much feel like getting any wetter than he was. Sirius, of course, had suggested that they 'do the job properly', which apparently required an absence of clothing and a full bath, but had withdrawn the remark at the look on Remus' face.

"Nothing, what?"

Remus removed his eyes from the taps and sent daggers towards the opposite end of the tub. "_Nothing_, Lord Barkley van de Grimm."

"That's more like it, old boy," said Sirius, thrusting the sponge into the air with affected pomposity. "Enough with the wounded werewolf act, eh, what, what?"

When Remus refused to respond with a smile, the sponge came sailing down with rather less grace and good humour.

"Come on, then, Moony," Sirius wheedled, sploshing his way across the tub and leaning against the tap-riddled wall. "Don't look at me like that! McGoogles and Flitwick got their own Moony monikers, why shouldn't I?"

Remus just looked at him. He wasn't going to talk. He wasn't. There was a limit to the amount of nonsense he could put up with, and Lord Barkley van de Grimm had strolled right past that limit. It was after midnight, he had a second detention to attend tomorrow night, and he was inches away from a soaking by malevolent bath bubbles. Flitwick had not been lenient with his choice of detention. The Prefect's Bathroom was more trouble to clean than it was worth.

"Get back to work then," Sirius said without smiling. It seemed he wasn't much amused by Remus' failure to play along. Well, Remus had just about had enough of Sirius and his seemingly irrepressible urge to provoke, to challenge, to ridicule.

Jaw clenched, Remus approached the taps and started polishing, his sponge making all sorts of unpleasant squeaking noises. Sirius watched from a metre to the right, doing absolutely nothing to help. Fuming, Remus rubbed at the taps a little harder, waiting for them to explode with bubbles and froth. He wondered whether Sirius would be able to find him a girlfriend if he wound up reeking of bath salts for the rest of his life.

"What's up with you?" Sirius cried in a sudden burst of frustration, grabbing Remus' sponge from his hands and flinging it behind his shoulder. Remus watched as it slid across the bathroom floor and into a cubicle on the other side of the room. He took a deep breath.

"Nothing, Lord – "

"Oh, stop it," Sirius snapped, looking rather like he wanted to swoop his own sponge right into Remus' face. He stepped away from the edge of the bath. "You've been acting shirty all week, and I'd like to know why."

Remus glared at Sirius, who, as per usual, had pushed himself into Remus' personal space. This time, however, the intrusion was less than welcome, and not just because Sirius' sponge was currently dribbling suds into his shoes.

"Is that an order?"

Hissing under his breath, Sirius tossed the sponge aside and latched his fingers into Remus' much-abused arms. He gave Remus a little shake and stared at him, earnest and angry and speckled with tiny violet bubbles. "Merlin's pants, Moony! Won't you just… Just stand up for yourself for once!"

Remus gaped. His mouth hung open and he found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. Stand up for himself? Sirius was telling him to stand up for himself, after the deal and the binding hex and the matchmaker intentions?

If Remus were James, if he were _Lily_, he would just pull back his fist and let it –

"Ouch!"

Sirius danced away, sending bubbles flying through the air. His foot landed on the abandoned sponge, and with a startled yelp, he fell flat on his backside. Clapping one hand to the side of his jaw and the other to his bottom, Sirius stared up at Remus with astonishment.

"You hit me!"

Remus blinked and glanced at his smarting fist. "I did."

From the floor, Sirius looked quite impressed. "_Moony._"

"Prat," Remus responded, sliding down to sit against the curved wall of the tub. He stared at his soapy shoes. Well, that was a first. Twenty-nine days of the month, he wasn't violent. He'd certainly wanted to take a swing at Sirius on countless occasions, but he'd never before gone through with it. It felt… good.

He rubbed at his hand, marvelling at the sting.

Sirius leant over and took a look at the reddening knuckles. "I drove you to that, didn't I?"

"You did."

There was a pause, and then came the squelchy sound of Sirius sliding himself closer. A sodden sock prodded at Remus' shoes. He looked up to find Sirius offering a repentant, uncertain smile.

"Forgive me?"

"I haven't got a choice, idiot," said Remus, but there was no real resentment behind the words. He could already feel his mouth sliding into an answering smile. It was true; he never did have much choice in these matters.

Sirius' sock delivered a more insistent poke, and Remus rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"Why've you been all moody, then? Loony, moody Moony. It's not like you're the only one facing two detentions in so many days. And really, you should be belting up Prongs and Evans, not me. I'm hardly at fault. _Baby_."

Remus kicked Sirius' sock away with a groan. Punches had been thrown; perhaps candour had a place. He could already feel the heat clawing its way up his neck. He shook his head and prepared to be mocked.

"If you must know, I overheard you and Prongs talking in the dormitory last week. You said – you said you wanted me to consider a relationship." Remus shifted against the wet tiles and tried very hard to look like he thought it nothing more than an annoying joke.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Sirius, but Remus, who couldn't bring himself to look up, went on hurriedly. "I'm – I'm not up for a relationship, Pads. Honestly, I'm not even sure why you think I'd be interested in that sort of thing. I've never _said_ anything about wanting to, you know."

He hazarded a glance at Sirius, and found him looking away, staring up at the portrait of the sleeping mermaid on the wall behind the bath with a strange, blank sort of look on his face. Perplexed, Remus paused for a moment, and then continued, speaking more quickly now that the worst was over.

"And besides all that, I'll never be able to look Flitwick and McGonagall in the face again," he said with an uneasy laugh. "I think I may be the first person in the world who's been mad enough to call McGonagall 'baby' to her face. So that's why. Why I've been acting all moody. Is, er – is that alright?"

He gazed at Sirius desperately. Why wouldn't he look away from that bloody portrait? Had he said something offensive in all that hopeless babbling? Maybe candour wasn't all it was cracked up to –

"Spiffing."

Remus stared. "Er, alright, then?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. It echoed eerily on the tiled bathroom walls, and Remus felt a strange urge to shiver. This wasn't normal Padfoot behaviour, and there was none of that apologetic tussling than went on after a Prongs-Padfoot altercation, and really, Remus didn't think Sirius had chosen quite the right word.

"Are you sure –"

"I'm sure."

Sirius stood up brusquely, brushing assorted bath debris from his trousers. His voice came flat and cold as the tiles pressing against Remus' back. "Look, Moony, I've just remembered a most urgent task that I must immediately attend to. Marauder stuff, you know the thing."

Remus began to climb to his feet, but Sirius waved him down with an imperious hand. "You'd better stay here and finish up, or Flitwick will have your guts for gobstones."

"Mind the sponge," was all Remus had time to say before Sirius was out of the tub. "See you later, then," he called desperately, his voice echoing back on itself, but the door shut without another word from Sirius.

Remus slumped back against the tiled wall of the tub with a crawling sense of unease. What on earth had sent Sirius stalking away like that? It couldn't have been the relationship thing, could it? What was it to Sirius that Remus didn't want to be forced into an artificial romance with some curly, glossy girl?

His head snapped up at a flash of movement to his side, but it was only the mermaid yawning and stretching in her frame. She settled back against her painted rocks and caught sight of Remus in the bottom of the bath. Slightly embarrassed despite himself, he gave her a weak smile. The mermaid giggled and fluttered her fins, and then –

"_Spiffing_," Remus bit around a mouthful of lavender-scented bubbles. What with socking Sirius in the jaw and watching him storm out for no discernible reason, he'd forgotten to be wary of this treacherous bloody bath.

Above his drenched head, the taps squeaked merrily on their screws.

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**Thanks for reading - please review!**

**x Froody**


	4. A Practical Potions Lesson

**A/N: Merry Christmas! I blame Dec 25th for the delay of this chapter. [I was busy eating mince pies.] If you're still hungry for festive silliness, check out my little yuletide drabble, 'That Old Cliché'. Note: It's Lily/James, people. I know you love it. **

**Thanks as always to ObsidianEmbrace for the beta work! **

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Remus frowned down into his worn, torn and spattered copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_. The Amortentia antidote was a particularly nasty potion to brew, a challenge even for a competent N.E.W.T.-level student – and Remus was anything but competent. He couldn't even concentrate. Hardly saw the words, in fact. His thoughts had skittered two desks to the right and he hadn't the energy or will to summon them back.

It was funny, he thought as he stared blankly down, how Sirius hadn't really asked him to do anything yet. He'd imagined that the deal would be the key source of Marauder entertainment and exploitation for the foreseeable future, all 'dance on the table,' and 'slap Filch on the arse'. Obviously, Remus had been made to do these things – simultaneously, to boot – but James and Peter had been the ones doing the exploiting, not Sirius. The only thing Sirius had ordered so far was the construction of an armada of paper aeroplanes, and that had been a good week ago.

Of course, Sirius would have had to _talk_ to Remus to give him instructions. Barely a word had passed between them since Sirius had stalked out of the Prefect's bathroom the night before. On returning to the dormitory past midnight, reeking of violets and squelching in his shoes, Remus had peered into Sirius' four-poster to see if he was awake, but all was dark and silent. At breakfast, there'd been nothing more than a muttered 'pass the fork,' and 'Peter's on fire,' the bare bones of Marauder conversation.

In ordinary circumstances, Remus might have died of sheer relief. Today, however, in these extraordinary times of awkward silences and supreme moodiness, he would have killed for a 'lick the cat' or a 'snog the portrait of the Fat Lady'. He had half a mind to do these things anyway, just to see if it would haul a reaction out of Sirius.

Sirius Black: that impenetrable, infuriating bastard. If anyone had the right to get all sullen and silent it was Remus.

He swallowed, throat tight with anxiety and anger. It wasn't like Sirius was a stranger to moodiness, but there had always been some predictable cause, whether the Noble and Most Hated House of Black, Slytherin supremacy or an unauthorised touching of his broomstick.

But this time was different. This time, Remus was the catalyst, and the real problem was that he had no idea _why_. He couldn't think of one rational explanation. All he'd done was refuse to allow Sirius to hook him into some manufactured relationship, and what kind of git would take that personally?

A Sirius-shaped git, apparently.

Distantly, he felt his nails hook into the hard wood of his desk. He could just… he could just _reach_ over two desks and swipe Sirius' book to the ground, and punch, or grab, or take his face in his hands and –

"Mr Lupin."

Remus' mind snapped back to the present. All was silent in the classroom save for scattered whispers; his breathing was loud in his own ears. There was a sharp biting pain in his fingertips. With blood pounding in his head and heat rushing to his face, Remus detached his nails from the desk and looked up to meet Slughorn's waiting gaze.

"Sir?"

Slughorn's answering smile was tinged with relief – or was that despair? Either way, he placed his hand on Remus' textbook and gave it a bit of a reassuring pat.

"That was some admirable concentration you were paying to – er," Slughorn leant down, "detailed examples of Amortentia use through wizarding history. Dear me, that is rather lurid, isn't it?"

Horrified, Remus glanced at the page – illustrated and everything – and hunched low in his chair, palms pressed to his forehead. James and Peter were snickering away in the desks at either side of him. Normally, Sirius would have been laughing the loudest; this detail neither escaped Remus nor improved his humour.

"Very lurid, sir," he mumbled, kicking himself for failing to find another place and time and chapter to dwell on his grievances. This was just what he needed, yet another professor to think he was a pervert.

James cleared his throat with difficulty, clearly having a hard time bringing his laughter under control. "Which page is that?" he asked loudly, eliciting laughter from other students and a death glare from Remus. "I'd hate to miss something so crucial to my understanding of antidotes, sir."

Slughorn drew back from Remus' desk and turned disapprovingly to James, who held up a hand and continued, straight-faced and earnest.

"Why don't you ask Remus to read it for us, sir?"

* * *

"_Prongs_, you relentless _wanker_," Remus fumed once they were safely outside the classroom. "I can't believe you made me do that. Cannot _believe_ it. I had to describe – things! Things no student should _ever_ be forced to say in class. Things no decent wizard would ever think of, let alone describe."

His voice had risen in volume and pitch as he struggled to be heard over the cackling around him.

"Things!" Peter managed, hand pressed into his side. "Things! I can't believe you had to say –"

"I can't believe I had to _hear_," interrupted Lily in timely fashion, giving Remus a comforting poke in the arm.

James stopped laughing at once. He cleared his throat, nodded to Lily and then jabbed Remus in the other arm. He looked for all the world like a caring and sympathetic friend. The _bastard._

"No worse than what you write in your diary," muttered Sirius, and Remus started at the sound of that low voice. He'd almost forgotten Sirius was trailing behind them, quiet as he was. Humiliation was most effective at clearing one's mind of all other concerns, even concerns as concerning as Sirius.

"Jealous, Black?" Lily snapped, glaring at Sirius over her shoulder. She turned back with a grimace and nudged Remus once more. "Buck up, won't you? At least we all – we all learnt some things. Some rather lurid things." She broke into a badly stifled fit of giggles and strode away without another word.

James sighed lustily, stopping in his tracks to gaze at Lily's departing, shaking form. "I'd like to learn some things with that girl. Hell, I'd settle for a read of her diary."

"Me too," said Peter, shaking his head with a grin. He almost fell through a tapestry when James clocked him upside the head.

"I'm certain her diary is composed solely of a list, Prongs; a list of ways to cause your death, in order of increasing pain and humiliation," Remus growled. "Or is that _my_ diary? I forget."

James laughed and slapped him on the back. "Ah, shut it, Moony. It could have been far worse. All you had to do was read a couple of dirty paragraphs for dear Slughorn."

"Yeah," said Peter, snorting. "At least he didn't make you act it out!"

Remus spluttered, horror-struck at the very idea. He opened his mouth to tell his so-called friends to stop laughing, it wasn't at all funny, and if they didn't let up, he would wind up being chained to the wall of a special ward for irreparably perverted wizards at St Mungo's – but Sirius beat him to it.

"Do you reckon maybe you've humiliated him enough for one day?"

Remus stopped and spun on his heel, James and Peter echoing his movement. The three of them stared at Sirius, whose knuckles were clenched white around the strap of his bag. Remus hardly knew what to think. Was Sirius defending him, after a whole day of silent treatment? He tried and failed to catch his eye; Sirius was busy glaring a fierce, heated path to James' face.

"Yeah, maybe," said James, shooting an odd, questioning sort of look at Remus, who shrugged enormously. "But he'd tell us if it was too much. We're Marauders." He pronounced the last two words with the emphasis of a foregone conclusion.

"Would he?"

Remus flinched when Sirius finally turned to him. His dark eyes were flashing dangerously, mouth thin as a knife's edge. Anger suited him – was probably in his genes – and when he spoke, his voice was soft and scathing and sent a shiver down Remus' spine.

"I don't think he would. I think he'd just bottle it up inside with all the courage of a bloody Hufflepuff until something snapped and he belted you in the face, and then said something to _really _cause you pain."

Remus recoiled. Peter gaped. James made a grab at Sirius' arm but was too slow to stop him from storming away down the corridor. As the pounding of his footsteps faded into the distance, Remus wrapped an arm around himself and stared at his shoes. He wasn't affronted; he was confused. Baffled. Bewildered. Upset.

Anxiety chewed at his stomach like a dog worrying a bone.

"Did I miss something?" Peter asked faintly, glancing from James to Remus and back again. "He's barking, isn't he? More so than normal, I mean."

James knit his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes. When he blinked open moments later, he had shed all the hilarity that had followed Potions. After a long, frustrated sigh, he turned to Remus and made an incomprehensible gesture with his arms.

"What in the sacred name of Merlin's goat is up with you two?"

Remus could do nothing but shrug. He wished he knew, desperately so. He said as much, and stared back at James and Peter who looked just as lost as he felt. James kept flicking his head in the direction that Sirius had left, as if expecting him to pop back in with a laugh and a 'can't believe you took that seriously, chaps,' but nothing of the sort eventuated.

Remus wasn't surprised. He'd known this deal would cause immeasurable trouble from the start, but even so, he'd never thought Sirius would be one to take things too seriously. He was almost glad that he'd be spending the night in his second detention with Sirius.

He wanted another swing at Sirius' jaw.

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**Thanks for reading! Fear not, there may be an upward turn next chapter... especially if you review. :p**

**xx Froody**


	5. Black Holes and Revelations

**A/N: Happy new year! Puppy kisses to all. Here's a new chapter (title from the Muse album - it just seemed to fit somehow) and it's full of illicit teenage drinking, just the way I like it. :p Thanks again to my beta, ObsidianEmbrace, who puts up with my email spamming like an angel. **

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Remus made a face at the dust-encrusted cloth in his hand. It was filthy, undoubtedly crawling with pox and plague. These cupboards couldn't have been cleaned for centuries – odd, really, considering that they were in the Hogwarts kitchens, prime house-elf territory. Disturbing was what it was. At least the cupboards were empty of food and all food-making stuffs. They were too full of pestilence to contain much else.

"Careful, your face might freeze like that."

The cloth was now subjected to a fully-fledged Remus Lupin glare. Dust. Germs. Pestilence. All were much better topics of thought than the useless, drunken git lounging behind his back.

"'Course, it's an improvement to your usual stick-up-the-arse expression."

With all the deft precision of an expert St. Mungo's Healer, Remus worked the cloth around the nooks and crannies of the nearest contagion-riddled cupboard. He had to jam his shoulder halfway inside in order to reach the darkest and most dubious corners, leaving his face pressed into the hinges and his mouth millimetres from the grime.

"Let the house-elves clean the cupboards, that's what I say."

"If they could, I don't suppose we'd be assigned the kitchens for our detention, would we?" snapped Remus, inhaling a lungful of toxic air. Privately, he quite agreed with Sirius. The cupboards may have been beyond the reach of a house-elf – Remus himself had to kneel on the top of the great brick fireplace – but surely their particular brand of magic should overcome this obstacle. Probably these cupboards were set aside for particularly deserving detentions. Bloody McGonagall.

The cloth came out black. Remus extracted himself from the cupboard and gazed inside with some satisfaction. It no longer looked sentient and ready to bite – quite satisfactory. But his satisfaction was as short-lived as the silence from Sirius.

"You look like a chimney sweep, Moony. Got black all over your face." This observation was punctuated by a loud, bawdy stretch of cackling. "How's that for a double entendre? Don't pretend you don't like it."

Remus swivelled slowly on his knees to face his intoxicated idiot of a friend. When he spoke, his voice was cool. "I don't have to _pretend _to dislike anything."

Even with half a bottle of Ogden's finest in his insides, Sirius couldn't miss Remus' meaning. "Is that so?" he said, voice dark and dangerous as the next cupboard to be cleaned. The words skittered like insects up the ridges of Remus' spine; he couldn't help but shiver.

Uncomfortable, and extremely unwilling to show it, Remus turned back to the task at hand. "It is," he muttered to his germ-infested cloth. He wasn't quite sure it believed him. He really didn't know what he was thinking anymore. All he could do was scrub away and attempt to go deaf until McGonagall released them.

But Sirius refused to be ignored. He raised his bottle and crossly sloshed it in Remus' direction.

"Oi, Moony. Moony. Moony! Don't be a tit, come on. Come off it. I'm the one who's been wronged, here."

Remus turned around. He couldn't quite believe his ears.

"You?"

"Yeah," Sirius answered rudely, though it appeared that this direct eye contact had caught him off guard. He was sitting all slouched on the end of a table, bottle in hand and just a touch of uncertainty in his eyes. When he noticed Remus staring, he stared right back. Sirius was much better at it – all unabashed and brazen and heated.

Remus shifted and looked away in frustration. His skin was on fire; it crawled with an itch that wouldn't let up. When he managed to glance back, he found that Sirius' eyes had sharpened to a glare that was more-or-less in focus.

"Yeah," Sirius repeated, spitting the word with vehemence. "You. You wronged me." He took a self-righteous swig of Firewhiskey and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, every inch the image of a pureblood alcoholic. "You wronged me with your – your – _hic_ – "

"Oh, stop it, won't you?" Remus exploded, slamming the cupboard door shut. "I haven't done anything, you enormous twat! I've gone along with every bloody thing you've ever suggested, as a matter of fact! Deal or no deal!"

Looking entirely unimpressed by the werewolf exploding in front of him, Sirius released a derisive snort.

"You have not. And I'll ask you – no, ha, _order_ you – not to take the high sodding ground here. Wanker," he added after a pause.

Before Remus could launch his nuclear-tipped response, which included the desperately unwelcome nature of Sirius' matchmaking and the utter failing of his mental faculties, the pair was interrupted.

The interruption stuttered to a halt and blinked from Remus to Sirius and back again with terrified tennis-ball eyes.

"Sirs!" she squeaked, all aquiver in her tea-towel uniform. Remus, who had frozen at first sight of the elf, felt his anger slide swiftly into prickling shame. The house-elf was clearly terrified by all the shouting and hostility in her kitchen. (Personally, Remus thought she should be more scared of the kitchen cupboards, but he supposed she must be used to them by now.)

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and was rewarded with the full attention of two staring sets of eyes. "Er, sorry about that, the shouting and all. We didn't wake you, did we?"

Come to think of it, Remus had absolutely no clue where the Hogwarts house-elves might sleep. He could only assume their quarters were somewhere near the kitchens.

The house-elf shook her head hard enough to send her ears flapping.

Toying absently with an edge of his putrid cloth, Remus tried to think of something else to say. The idea of petrifying the help didn't sit well with him, no matter how justified his shouting may have been.

He forcibly stopped himself from looking to Sirius for help. "What's your name?" he tried.

"Pokey, isn't it?" asked Sirius in a gentle sort of voice that did as much to startle Remus as to soothe the elf, who nodded jerkily. "Yeah, thought so. Bet you recognise us, don't you? The famous food-stealing Marauders."

"Acquiring," Remus interjected with a nervous laugh. "The famous food-_acquiring_ Marauders. With permission and all."

Sirius fluttered his fingers disparagingly in Remus' direction, prompting Pokey to giggle shakily. "Don't mind him, he's a Prefect. You know the sort: stodgy. Uptight. Makes love to rules and literature, the prose-loving pervert."

Remus protested half-heartedly but the damage was done: Pokey was won-over heart and soul.

"You is wanting some food, sirs?" she piped, dropping a shy curtsey in Sirius' direction.

Glancing at the virulent muck coating his fingers, Remus was immediately decided against any activity likely to bring the stuff any closer to his face.

"No thanks," said Sirius, giving his bottle a merry jiggle. "We're all set for the night. But tell you what, I'll give you our dormitory details – hang on… there! – and I'd be much obliged if you could toddle up with some pastries at seven in the evening from this day forth."

"Sirius!" Remus burst out, unable to contain himself.

Pokey, a scandalised sort of look on her little round face, gave a high-pitched harrumph and stepped closer to Sirius. "It is an honour, sir!" she trilled. "Pokey will bring the pastries herself." She seemed to take Remus' censure as a slight on her dedication to the house-elf creed.

Sirius laughed and handed over the scrap of parchment bearing the dormitory details. He seemed to derive particular pleasure from Remus' disapproval. Remus was hardly surprised.

Pokey, completely recovered from the terror and shakes of her entrance, departed with a visible spring in her step, holding the parchment reverently at arms length like it was the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy itself.

There was silence. And then –

"I don't get it," said Sirius, staring into the mottled glass of his bottle. He had unearthed it in the very first cupboard they'd opened, and it certainly resembled something recently exhumed. "I just don't get it, Remus. Give me a minute with a house-elf, a girl, a teacher, the bloody Minister for Magic, and they're mine. Just like _that_." He snapped his fingers, or at least attempted to. Dexterity appeared to have walked out the door with Pokey.

Remus made a mumbled sound of sympathy, turning promptly to hide the tension threading back into his limbs. He had no idea what Sirius was getting at and he had no intention of making enquiries. What was it to him that Sirius could charm his way out of an Exploding deck of cards? Nothing, that's what. It was hardly news to him.

Sirius grunted a frustrated grunt from the table. "See, there's the problem right there. You won't talk to me. The talking's what sucks in the rest, I think. I have golden words of – of gold or something. Every line a pick-up. Pick. Pick-up. Ha."

"You're taking that bottle of Firewhiskey _very seriously_, aren't you?" Remus called as he gazed into the bowels of the waiting cupboard. It was positively festering but Remus could hardly bring himself to care. All his energy was directed to changing the topic of conversation, which seemed to have taken a dangerous turn.

"I'm taking everything seriously; trouble is, you're not," Sirius growled hotly into Remus' ear. Having failed to hear Sirius move from his table, Remus jumped and almost fell into the cupboard. His heart was clapping along at a furious rate and he had the terrible feeling that his near-death experience wasn't the cause.

He whipped his neck around to find Sirius standing not a metre from the fireplace, his head almost level with Remus'. If there'd been space on the narrow ledge atop the fireplace, Remus would have scrambled back in an instant. As it was, he merely pressed himself against the cupboard hinges and forgot about the whole breathing business.

"What – what are you doing?" he managed, eyes darting over the angled planes of Sirius' face for a hint of approaching humour. Remus craved a joke. Black, bad taste, anti-Muggle… anything, really, just some sign that this wasn't serious, because it was _Sirius_, and Sirius didn't do things without some sort of –

"I'm going to tell you to do something now, and I know you can't say no."

He was serious. Remus felt like his chest might implode. He had to be mistaken; Sirius didn't mean what he thought he meant, of course not. If he did, then what was he playing at, trying to set Remus up with girls? Why would Sirius want him to consider a relationsh –

_Oh._

Remus closed his eyes. He allowed himself a moment of unadulterated adolescent panic. Then, in his calm, unruffled inner Prefect voice, he told himself to breathe. He gathered himself with all the strength and courage of a teenage werewolf placed amongst brainy, reckless ruffians.

He opened his eyes and stared straight back at Sirius.

"Is that what you really want?"

It was a challenge.

"Is it, Sirius?"

Sirius Black never said no to a challenge. The words were launched on breath laced with Firewhiskey.

"Kiss me."

And to hell with it all, Remus did. He did it properly. He was fed up with uncertainty and bloody misunderstandings. He leaned down, took Sirius' face in both hands and pressed his mouth forcefully to his. It was clumsy and aggressive, and Remus didn't much care. Reason and dignity could just bugger off, and good riddance.

Sirius needed no encouragement at all. He gave back immediately, reaching up and tugging at Remus' jumper with eager hands. It all tasted awfully of Firewhiskey, but Remus was too overwhelmed at the rough-brush _sensation_ to register the alcohol until –

The alcohol. The _alcohol._

Remus pulled back at once, leaving Sirius shut-eyed and keening for more. He could barely comprehend it, the dishevelled, flushed spectacle that once was haughty Sirius Black, and now was – drunk. Drunk and well-kissed. Well-kissed on _order_. Those were the inescapable facts of it.

"Right," muttered Remus. His brain seemed to be caught in the same storm that was sending his moral compass spinning. He suspected that he should be feeling furious. "Right," he repeated loudly, pushing Sirius back by the shoulders and watching the grey eyes blink dazedly open.

"You said? Something?"

And Remus was resolved. Resolute. He had kissed – had he _really_? – one of his closest and most infuriating friends, with a fair slosh of Ogden's in the works, and now was the time to exit. Really, he should have left long ago.

Sirius looked near delirious, feverish at the least. He looked set to give Remus a series of new orders, so Remus knew he'd have to work quickly.

"You take this," he said calmly, pressing his grime-blackened cloth into the hand that Sirius was reaching towards him. "We're in detention, you know."

"Detention?"

"Yes, detention. And it's your fault. So do the work. And where's that bottle?"

Having clumsily slid from the fireplace ledge, Remus walked towards the end of the nearest table and grabbed Sirius' bottle of Firewhiskey.

"I'm confiscating this. Prefect."

"All right," said Sirius, just standing there and blinking.

Remus took a swig and headed for the portrait of the pear. He wasn't quite sure what he'd do if he didn't; probably dart straight back to the ledge, to Sirius. But to pummel him into the ground or – or something else, Remus wasn't sure.

He was certain of only two things, both destructive as an exploding house of cards parked next to an armada of paper planes. One, he didn't regret kissing the drunken bastard. And two, he couldn't honestly blame the bloody deal for this one.

He took another swig and grimaced at the burn.

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**Thanks for reading - please review! (Don't hurt me.)**

**x Froody**


	6. Mooning About

**A/N: And here's another one! Thanks to ObsidianEmbrace and all my reviewers: you collectively kick my authorly butt into gear. I'm very, very grateful.**

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Collapsed along the length of the sofa nearest the fire, Remus tried very hard not to think.

Pain thrummed down his left side in what ought to have been a distracting manner but wasn't. Flames danced about in the grate and utterly failed to capture his imagination. It was infuriating, a wasted exercise: his mind was positively brimming with thoughts.

Remus rather wished he'd taken up on Pomfrey's offer of a dreamless sleep potion.

He stared irritably up at the ceiling of the common room and tried to focus on the smoke-stained filigrees there. He was never his best on the day after a full moon – but today was a special case, and if he hadn't been determined to avoid the dormitory, he would have held fort in his four-poster.

Thing was, Remus hadn't seen Sirius since detention the night before last – at least not in human form. Moony had seen Padfoot last night, of course, but they'd somehow neglected to swap explanations for the Kitchen Cupboard Kiss. Remus was keen to defer this conversation. Sirius' notable absence suggested that the feeling was mutual.

So far, they'd managed a good thirty-six hours of avoidance, but only because Remus had been camped up in the Hospital Wing for most of them. Now that Pomfrey had pushed him out, it could only be a matter of time before Sirius would waltz in and demand to speak of the K.C.K.

To preserve sanity until that time, Remus was determined not to think about it.

Unfortunately for Remus, the next moment brought an almighty crash-bang from the other side of the room. The world erupted into bawdy hoots of laughter. It was as if the collected populace of the Gryffindor common room had conspired to remind him of Sirius in the most obnoxious way possible. Glowering, he suppressed the urge to sit up and put his Prefect powers to good use.

Maybe there was something to be said for hermits after all.

"Friends don't let friends become hermits," he murmured out loud in a singsong voice, remembering the supercilious look on Sirius' face as he'd said the words. That single phrase undid all of his efforts. The tap was turned to full blast and everything streamed to mind at once: Sirius, the deal, the _kiss_.

It was mind-boggling to think that the deal was barely two weeks old. It had started on this very sofa, Remus all alone with a book in his lap and his head in the right place. Between then and now he'd managed to lose his head entirely. His book had been replaced by a lapful of Sirius, who'd started yapping on about hermits and deals and all shades of nonsense. And who could have foreseen the following events?

Divination was bloody _useless_.

Remus shoved his head beneath a cushion as an image of the Hogwarts kitchens flashed to mind. What in Merlin's name had he been thinking – had _Sirius_ been thinking? And exactly how long could they go on avoiding each other?

"Curious," said a voice from above, neatly interrupting the silent meditation below.

Remus didn't bother removing the cushion from his face. This voice belonged to none other than James Potter, the interfering berk himself. He hardly deserved a cushion-less conversation.

"A curious thing, the feeble mind."

On a normal day, Remus would let such a comment pass without notice. Today, however, was no ordinary day, and he allowed himself to be provoked. A distraction was a distraction, after all.

"Feeble mind?"

"As feeble a mind as ever I've seen."

"Explain."

"I hardly need to."

"Humour me."

"Very well." James plunked down onto Remus' knees and ignored the ensuing complaints. "It is my belief that the attempted act of hiding beneath a cushion is rather the hallmark of a feeble mind."

Remus considered this. It seemed a logical deduction. And then he made one of his own, and glared accusingly up at James – or would have but for the cushion.

"That racket before; that was you, wasn't it?"

"Only one of feeble mind would even ask, mate."

Extracting his head from beneath the cushion, Remus peered up at his friend. James had a peculiar expression on his face, one Remus hadn't seen for ages. His forehead was all crinkled up above his glasses and his hair was barely ruffled. He looked concerned. James Potter was often defensive, regularly upset, but rarely concerned.

Remus rather wondered which of the three _he_ should be feeling.

"You may be right," he conceded, allowing his head to flop back onto the sofa. He closed his eyes and reached about for unconcerning fields of conversation. "Where's Peter?"

"You mean Padfoot?"

Remus started. "What – " he began, but James raised a magnanimous hand.

"It's sorted, Moony. I punished him myself. Manacles, racks and corkscrews, the lot."

Remus felt like his stomach was preparing to drain slowly through his toes. "What?" he repeated with some effort. James couldn't know, could he? He couldn't. Sirius wouldn't, surely not.

James shook his head, every inch the disapproving Head Boy. "Fancy getting sloshed during detention. Selfishness is what it is. Quite contrary to the Marauder creed."

A jet of pure relief whooshed from Remus' lungs.

"Yeah, I told the git what's what," James continued, patting Remus on the ankle in a fatherly sort of way. "By all means get stonkered, but not if a friend's left sober. And _what would McGonagall say_?" He drew himself up in a parody of the witch herself, all flashing spectacles and the thinnest of lips.

"She'd bring out the manacles," said Remus, managing a shaky grin. "She'd lock him in one of those cupboards and throw away the key."

"Quite right she would." James returned to his usual slouch and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. He turned a pointed gaze on Remus. "You'd undoubtedly do far worse, from what I've heard."

Dread squeezed back against Remus' ribs. "Undoubtedly," he said with a wild sort of laugh, hoping against hope that James hadn't heard the half of it. Even so, he didn't know that 'undoubtedly' was the accurate adverb.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he'd do when finally confronted with Sirius, or even how he felt about the whole business. That kiss had been shocking. Unexpected. Exhilarating. And Sirius had started it. Something had finally happened, and Remus didn't know if he could bear for the floodgates to close up again.

But Sirius had been stonkered, as James had so aptly put it. Sloshed. Plastered. Off his chops. Maybe 'undoubtedly' _was _the right word.

It was all Sirius' fault, after all – Sirius' fault if their friendship collapsed with a resounding boom. Sirius Black was _undoubtedly_ the guilty party, and his sodding deal the murder weapon. Remus should undoubtedly be infuriated.

If he kept repeating this to himself, maybe he'd start to believe it.

"Don't know what's wrong with the prat at the moment," said James, whose eyes hadn't moved from Remus. There was a disconcertingly pensive look on his face. "He's gone gaga for some girl, did you know?" He delivered the word 'girl' with as much fondness as one might pronounce the word 'leper'.

Remus shifted queasily. "Oh really?"

Still, James had said 'girl,' so his stomach had no business making like a bloody butter churn. And even if Sirius was playing up about something, it could hardly be about, well, _him_. Sirius never bothered getting hung up about anyone. There were entirely too many fish in his metaphorical sea, and all of them gagging for his hook.

"He keeps mooning about the place, all woe and existential depression, tossing his head and cursing the sky and spouting the salient facts."

"Ah." Remus had the sudden urge to curse the sky. He settled for existential depression.

"Doesn't like to mention who it is, but I've a fair idea… And I'll have you know she's not a likely one, Moony."

"Oh?"

"To begin with, she's not even a she."

"Ah. Ah?"

"Ah, indeed." Appearing to ignore the tense, churning Remus beneath him, James settled back against the sofa and adjusted his glasses. He didn't look entirely comfortable. Remus could well sympathise, his stomach having burrowed down somewhere in the region of his ankles.

"Look, Prongs– "

James cut him off with a hand to the face and spoke over Remus' spluttering. "Oh no, no, no. I'm playing no further part in this. If there's something going on between the two of you – and I'd bet my broomstick there is – then you'll sort it out yourself, Moony. I am a bloke. I do not notice these things. I really don't want to be having this conversation and I'd appreciate it if you'd save your tossing of the head and mooning about for somebody else."

He shot Remus a grimace edged with glee. "I suggest you leave the lurid stuff for dear Slughorn."

Remus inflated with outrage. "You absolute – "

But the absolute unmentionable had already legged it and somebody else was taking his place atop Remus' knees. It was a decidedly authentic she, and she appeared to possess little concern for the fact that Remus was about to explode from sheer nerves.

"You look like hell," said Lily, green eyes flicking from the left side of Remus' jaw to his grazed elbows to his black-rimmed fingernails. She picked up his nearest hand and dangled it in his face. "Didn't your mother teach you to scourgify your nails, young man?"

Remus wrestled his hand from Lily's grasp and didn't bother with a response. The dirt had been there since the kitchen cupboards of McGonagall's detention. As far as he could tell, it had no intention of leaving. In this respect, it quite resembled the Head Boy and Girl. Between the pair, he doubted he'd ever be left in peace. There seemed little hope for this hermit business, no matter what Sirius thought.

Lily sighed and chewed at her lip, obviously intending to stick her nose in it just as James had. Remus, whose head was still spinning from his previous conversation, tried to summon the words to deter her. Before either managed to open their mouth, however, James leapt back into the picture and opened his.

"Almost forgot: Padfoot asked me to pass on a message, Moony. He looked for you yesterday once he'd rolled out of bed, but you'd already made off with Pomfrey. There was last night, of course, but you were hardly fit to converse. He said to tell you that he's properly ashamed of himself. 'Ashamed and turned on,' if you want it word for word."

Remus froze, head having leapt from his cushion.

"Yeah, turned on, he said. Well, that's typical Padfoot, isn't it?"

James said the last with the sort of loaded look that makes brave young men want to drop all and make a run for it. Sadly for Remus, the Head Girl had him pinned down at the knees. She'd twitched at the words 'turned on' and didn't quite seem to know how to react.

After a moment of intense vacillation, Lily resorted to her tried and true methods. "What on earth are you on about?" she demanded, shooting daggers at James. "What has Sirius gone and done now?"

James shrugged and stuck his hands in the pockets of his robes. "I've decided not to notice, my dear Head Girl. I advise you do the same. But if you're still curious, why not ask the man himself?"

"I wouldn't mind asking," Remus muttered, head sinking painfully back to the sofa. All this panic and tension was playing havoc with his moon wounds.

"Then do it," said James.

"I'll have to now as you've ordered it."

As soon as Remus had bit out the words, somebody cleared his throat from behind the sofa. Three sets of eyes whipped up to find Sirius standing there, arms crossed and eyes shuttered, looking the very image of a challenge.

"Well, go on then. Here's your chance."

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**Oh my! What do you think? Why can't it all just be kissing? ;)**

**xx Froody**


	7. It Ends With A Whimper

**A/N: Here's the longest one yet! And a bit of a slog to write. Lucky for me, I had ObsidianEmbrace's support and skills, and the rest of you lot poking gently at my side. Read! Enjoy! I'm off to collapse in a corner.**

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Being a prefect of the werewolf variety tended to open one's eyes to the concept of irony. This was helpful, as Remus might otherwise have failed to fully appreciate its current efforts. He had spent the past thirty-six hours unsuccessfully struggling not to think, and now, just when some quick thinking was required, his brain went blank.

Talk about feeble minds.

He stared. He couldn't seem to do much else. He was flat on his back with a girl on his knees, and above, blocking out the ceiling, was Sirius Black. All he could see was that haughty brow and those unforgiving eyes, and lips that had never looked quite so alarmingly _there_. Obviously they'd always _been_ there, Sirius being a bloke with a confirmed fondness for raspberry-blowing, but Remus was starting to realise that he'd never given them a proper look.

He made up for it now. There they were, just where you'd expect them to be, above the chin, below the nose. They were proud and pinkish, pressed together, grim, thin and soft as –

A loud farting sound slapped Remus back into the present. He jerked his eyes down with a start. This was no time for lip-staring, if indeed such a time existed. Someone was giggling nearby, and it was all he could do to turn around and glare.

James stopped giggling and raised his hands. "Not guilty. Plenty of other young pests on the premises."

"None comparable to present company, of course," muttered Lily, but that was as far as the Head Girl got before nerves got the best of Remus.

"Enough!" he roared, wrenching himself up and nearly knocking Lily to the floor.

There was immediate silence. Gryffindor students were gaping open-mouthed from all corners. Quills dangled over parchment; a white queen paused, sceptre lodged in a bishop. In the far corner, a Muggle whoopee cushion deflated flatulently in a frozen pair of hands.

In the whole of his career as a prefect, Remus had never had such a response, but he was too geared up to feel gratified.

"Spit it out, then," said Sirius, whose look of challenge had flickered briefly to shock. "Ask me. As you've been ordered."

Remus' chest tightened painfully at this reminder of the deal and its recent demands. Why _had_ Sirius ordered Remus to kiss him? Was it as simple as drunken curiosity? The thought made him feel ill.

"All right," he said reluctantly and, mostly to delay the inevitable task of meeting Sirius' eyes, flicked a glance at James. There was a grim sort of pleading look going on behind the wire spectacles. It was almost like James was telling him to calm down, consider the facts and _think before speaking_.

Despite the obvious hypocrisy going on, Remus gave it a shot. He stared at the floor and thought hard. He thought of Sirius – Sirius his friend, Sirius the Marauder, Sirius the enormous haughty git who would do anything in the world for his mates, who would never do anything stupid to jeopardise their friendship – never _again_, in any case. Sirius Black was a good many things, but 'loyal to the back teeth' made the top three.

Remus took a deep, calming breath. When he looked up, he looked past the impatient glower and saw the tension in the way Sirius held his jaw, the frequency with which he swallowed. He looked through the hostility and saw the way Sirius was leaning forward on his toes as if set to take flight.

The hateful nonchalance was a mask. Sirius was terrified, jittery at the least, and Remus was thrilled to know he wasn't the only one.

"All right," he repeated with a startling burst of recklessness. "All right. I'll ask. Why did you do it?"

There was a moment's pause, and then –

"Wanted to."

"What?"

"I wanted to, Moony!"

Heat slammed into Remus' face and nearly knocked him over. "Oh," was all he could manage. "Ah." This was just about the last response that he'd expected. He had braced himself for a myriad of excuses but not – not _that_.

He stared at Sirius helplessly. From the way Sirius was staring back, he supposed something more was required of him. Trouble was, some key cog in his brain appeared to have melted clear away.

"We _are _talking about – about – _detention_, aren't we?" he tried, voice fraying at the edges. He hadn't a clue what else they might be talking about, but he'd had enough of misunderstandings for a lifetime. If Sirius was talking about his latest attempt to filch Flitwick's knickers, Remus wanted to know _now_.

Sirius made a strangled sort of sound. "Yes," he hissed through gritted teeth, composure starting to crack. "The one with the kitchen cupboards, no less."

"And you wanted – "

"_Yes_. The bottle of Firewhiskey helped, obviously. Not that you've got any such excuse."

Remus spluttered, heart having taken up lodgings in his mouth. Of all the fuss going on in his insides, indignation seemed to have taken the reigns.

"No excuse! And what of the bloody deal, you prat!"

Something darkened in Sirius' face but before Remus could figure out what _that_ meant, Lily batted her way into the dialogue with an irritable flapping of the hands.

"Are the two of you speaking in code, or would someone care to fill me in on _what we're talking about_?"

She glared furiously between the pair of them, and Remus felt some of the blood drain from his face as he realised that Lily wasn't the only one staring. What with Sirius and his 'wanted to's, Remus had completely forgotten where he was.

"Not in the middle of the common room," he murmured wildly. There was only so much public ridicule one person could take, and the fewer witnesses to his inevitable breakdown the better.

Someone clapped him on the back; it was a determined-looking James. Appallingly, the sight sent little waves of reassurance washing through him. Panic dampened, Remus shook his head. When exactly had a determined-looking James become a cause for comfort? Had the world gone mad?

"Lily, you're with me," James said briskly, holding out a hand. To the entire common room's astonishment, she took it. Eyebrows through the roof, James cleared his throat and turned to Remus.

"You: go upstairs with this git and figure out what's going on. Don't leave till you're done." He waited for Remus' nod before rounding on Sirius. "The deal mightn't work on _you_ but be a man and get it sorted, won't you? This is doing my head in."

And with that, James spun on his heel and made off through the staring crowd. Gryffindors parted for their Head Boy and Girl like a red and gold sea. It was a stirring sight – or perhaps that was just the panic rekindling in Remus' insides.

"Let's go, shall we?" he offered, feeling a little like he'd been inhaling kitchen cupboard fumes, all weak at the knees and light in the mind. He started for the staircase without waiting for a response. Sirius followed directly, shoes clattering as they made their way up the stairs. Neither said a word until safely ensconced within the dormitory.

Remus watched the wooden door click shut behind him. Nothing for it then.

"Well, this is…" he began, sliding swiftly into premature silence.

Sirius, who had stalked straight to his four-poster and collapsed on the covers, made a sharp sound under his breath and presently hauled himself back to his feet. His dispassionate front was a thing of the past. He took a step forward and froze when Remus stepped back.

"Right," he muttered, exhaling sharply. "All right. Right ho. All right then."

"Been into the whiskey again?"

Sirius glared in the negative, leaving Remus wondering where this burst of false bravado had come from, and whether it could jolly well stay there, please.

"Er," he began, his tone apologetic and over - rather than on – the edge.

Sirius stopped him dead with a raised hand. "Just tell me one thing," he said, the words rushing out like air from a punctured whoopee cushion. "One thing, before I go completely mad."

Remus swallowed, regretting his answer in advance. "Go on."

"Did you – did _you_ want to?"

The words hung loud in the silence as Remus stared at Sirius. His eyes dragged over the familiar lines and features, and then it struck him like a cannonball to the gut. He liked Sirius. He wanted to kiss him. Had for ages, really.

"Ah," he said, which did very little to convey his conclusion. "Yes."

Sirius blinked slowly, looking about as taken aback as Remus felt. "I thought – I thought you only kissed me because I asked. Because of the deal."

"I'd never."

"No?"

"You know I'd never."

Sirius nodded, looking fractionally less uncertain and upset. He stood there for a moment, staring at Remus and twisting a hand around his wrist.

"Okay."

To Remus, this didn't quite seem the right response. He had just told one of his best mates that he'd kissed him by choice and not because he'd been asked to. Remus was far from an expert on what etiquette demanded in such a situation, but he'd bet James' broomstick it wasn't a hesitant 'okay'. Was it too much to ask for some small sign of pleasure?

Unable to continue looking at Sirius, Remus walked to his four-poster and took a heavy seat. There was a dull sort of ache building in his stomach. Obviously, he'd said too much, admitted to too much, and this was the perfect illustration of why two people should keep their mouths closed and far, far away from each other.

He fixed his eyes on the charred piece of floorboard at the foot of his bed. It was burned rather curiously in the shape of a card.

"What are you doing?"

Remus shook his head wearily, uncertain himself.

From the sound of creaking bedsprings, it seemed that Sirius had taken up Remus' position. There was a pause. Then –

"You look tired."

Remus made a noncommittal sound.

"Full moon battered you about, did it?"

He didn't even bother responding to this one. This was hardly the time for casual conversation. If Sirius was going to be like that, Remus wished he'd just leave and take it out on someone else.

There was a frustrated groan from the other bed. "Look, Moony – no, really, look! That's an order, you bloody great git!"

With enormous reluctance, Remus lifted his eyes from the floor and met Sirius' squinting gaze. He was half cast in shadow, the late afternoon sun throwing its light through the dormitory window behind Remus' bed. Even after everything, Remus couldn't much help but melt away under the focus of those furious grey eyes.

There was clearly something chemically wrong with him.

"What?" he bit out before he could say something else that he'd regret.

Sirius clenched and unclenched his jaw. "Moony. I've been wondering. If you wanted to kiss me back in the kitchens, then why'd you throw the idea of a relationship in my face the day before?"

Remus stared. "I thought you were trying to set me up with girls, why else?"

"_Girls_?"

"Well, what else was I supposed to think?"

"Not _that_, you oblivious twat!"

"Oh, that's nice."

Sirius hauled himself up onto his heels, sneakers digging into the folds of his duvet. "You mean to tell me that you've gone about thinking I was trying to hook you up with _girls_?" This last was said with loud distaste.

Remus shifted on his four-poster, beginning to feel oddly defensive. "Do I have to keep repeating it? And I'll have you know I didn't much appreciate it. Well, would you?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "'Course not, you daft werewolf. Who wants girls? Look at Evans: barking." He lifted a hand to block the glare, and widened his eyes dramatically for Remus' benefit. "I think she was holding Prongs' hand back there, did you see? Mental."

Remus laughed despite it all. It was true. Lily appeared to have taken a detour around the bend, and James was reaping the benefits.

"You could do a lot worse than me, you know," Sirius said abruptly, levity dropping right off his face without a moment's notice. Remus choked his way into silence while Sirius continued. "I'm bloody good-looking. Everyone says so. And – and you look at me. A lot. I've seen it. And I think you like me. And you wanted to kiss me, didn't you?"

All this was said with an air of defiance, Sirius ending on the challenging note that he'd started out with earlier that afternoon.

"Well," was all Remus could manage, and he was grateful for this much. Somewhere in the middle of Sirius' little speech, his brain had filtered out right through his ears. Frozen in full view of earnest grey eyes, Remus felt himself flushing hotly. Mouth dry, he made to turn away, to look into the distracting glare from the window behind him, but he was forcibly stopped before he made halfway.

"Don't you dare," said Sirius fiercely, having slid from his bed and caught Remus' chin in his hand, a hand which shook slightly as he spoke. "Don't you dare look away. We've come to this point, we've finally fucking arrived somewhere, and you're not to leave it now. We'll sort it out. And we'll sort it out together, too. 'Cause you wanted to kiss me. And I'm bloody good-looking."

There was really no denying it. There was no denying Sirius anything, really. Remus had known this from the start, not that it prevented his heart taking up as a one-man band.

He smiled rather shakily. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"None."

If there was one thing Remus hated – other than Potions, of course – it was letting people down. And in any case, here, he didn't want to.

"Deal," he said. He felt a wry sort of smile tugging at his lips and let it stick. Butterbeer warmth was beginning to bubble through his insides. "Can't let you go on begging, can I? Takes away from your famous good-lookingness. And stop looking so taken aback. Didn't think I'd reject you, did you?"

"I thought you were going to run away like a little girl, actually."

"Careful, or I'll biff you in the jaw again."

"Not saying it wasn't a bit of a turn on, Moony, but I'd like it if you'd take this all a bit more seriously."

Despite the fact that he was still remastering the mechanics of breathing, Remus managed to give his eyes a much-practised roll. When he refocussed, his proximity to Sirius somehow seemed to have become more pronounced. It might have been the fact that Sirius was shuffling closer.

Remus stopped breathing altogether. There was no issue of alcohol here, no orders, nothing at all to make this anything less than what it should be. As he'd done ever since Remus could remember, Sirius was sliding expertly into his personal space, and Remus had never felt more alive.

There were mere centimetres between them when Sirius stopped. If Remus had moved his head, their noses would have bumped. He had half a mind to do so, if only to ease the tension – but then Sirius looked at him, just looked, and Remus' world centred back on those soft, slightly chewed lips.

"Want to kiss me?" Sirius murmured in a thick sort of voice, his breath splashing warmly over Remus' face. "See? No exploitation of the deal this time."

"Turned on, Padfoot?" Remus countered, hardly believing his own daring.

With a muffled laugh, Sirius pressed their foreheads together and smirked down into Remus' eyes. "You better believe it."

Remus took a deep, shuddering breath and slammed his eyes closed, but before either of them could move that bare inch closer, the dormitory door sprung open.

He ripped his eyes open just in time to see Sirius dive yelping for the floor. Terrible excuses flocking to his tongue, Remus turned wildly to the doorway, but there was nobody there, unless –

"Pokey!" he gasped, gaze dropping a good metre.

"Sir!" the house-elf squawked, looking enormously put out beneath her towering tray. "Why is you pushing Master Sirius to the floor?"

"I didn't!"

"He didn't," Master Sirius confirmed as he scrambled from the floorboards. "Pokey, why is you here – I mean, what in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"It's seven o'clock," Pokey piped, her tray wavering uncertainly at waist-height. She seemed to feel this explanation was sufficient, offering nothing further but a fretful glance at Sirius.

And then the door burst open again.

"Seven on the dot," said Peter happily, swiping Pokey's tray with practised fingers. "Cream buns! Excellent!"

With a despairing sort of whimper, Sirius collapsed backwards on his bed, releasing a cloud of card-tower ash. This left Remus to thank, reassure and comfort the elf, offload a handful of buns from Peter, and generally wonder about the workings of the universe. And when he was done with all that, he followed Sirius' example and took to bed.

It had been an extraordinary, excruciating day; he couldn't wait for the next.

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**NOTE: The story's not over yet, folks. More to come soon! In the meantime, thanks for reading - please review. :)**

**x Froody**


	8. A Deal Well Done

**A/N: Final chapter! And it's been a fun ride. ObsidianEmbrace - thank you. You've been beyond brilliant from the start. I doubt I would have got past chapter two if you hadn't kept encouraging me/massaging my ego/being a champion beta. And thanks to everyone who read this thing, and especially to those who left me comments. It means the world that you like this silly story. Now, go! Read. That's an order. **

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Friday morning saw Remus wake with a smile on his face and the sun full in his eyes.

The dormitory was deafeningly empty. A squint at his watch told Remus that he'd normally be well on his way to a melted cauldron by now. One thing was certain: his absence wouldn't cause Slughorn any undue distress. The benefits of lycanthropy being few and far between, Remus made the most of his school-approved sleep-ins on the days following a full moon.

Pushing his forehead into his pillow, Remus savoured his last moments of sleep – or would have done if something hadn't promptly collided with the back of his head.

"Ack!"

Remus' eyes shot open. His hand leapt up instinctively and got swaddled midway in the bedclothes. Heart thudding in his chest, he heaved himself onto his back and fought to extricate his limbs, failing to avoid another two smacks to the skull in the process.

"Wha – "

The word died on his lips as his eyes boggled upwards. It was immediately obvious that 'what' was not the question to be asked here. 'Who' and 'how' were similarly useless. Battered into consciousness by a belligerent paper aeroplane, one might do better to ask _why_, though Remus doubted he'd appreciate the answer.

Trust Sirius Black to set a paper plane alarm clock. Sirius, the incorrigible prat, had obviously seen fit to put his Swooping Charms to use on a sleeping Remus. Flitwick would probably give him top marks for this one.

Swiping the head-seeking plane off course, Remus slumped back down and tried very hard to feel furious. He failed miserably. He attempted irritation, and then frustration, and eventually settled for amused indignation. It was just like Sirius, the inconsiderate git.

His mouth twitched upwards at the edges. The very thought of Sirius and his infamous charms was enough to send a thrill shooting through his body. Though Remus would have denied it to his grave, the fact remained that if Sirius had employed a _different_ sort of charm this morning –

Feeling warm, Remus rubbed a palm into his eye socket and kicked off his sheets. It was a good thing there was nobody around; he probably looked completely mad, grinning to himself like a right nutter. But he couldn't help it, not when he was looking at the bed opposite and he could hear Sirius' words from last night. It was all rather hard to believe – but Sirius was hard to believe at the best of times.

In Remus' opinion, last night had certainly been up there with the very best of times.

But _Pokey_. He groaned at the memory of the interrupting elf. Even _that_ had been Sirius' fault, the greedy prat. If he hadn't gone and charmed the pillowcase off Pokey...

"Ouch!"

Remus scowled at the aeroplane, which swooped cheekily out of reach even as he made a grab for it.

"All right, all right, I'm up," he muttered, hauling himself out of bed and ducking from the aeroplane's path. Again, he couldn't help but be glad that the dormitory was deserted; it didn't do much for one's dignity to take directions from a poorly folded piece of paper. Then again, he'd been taking directions from stupider things for years. A paper plane was probably a good step up from a Padfoot.

A _Padfoot_.

And the smile was back on Remus' face like it had never left. He couldn't even bring himself to frown at the paper plane, and he positively beamed when he managed to snag it right out of the air. A snitch was _nothing_ to this.

Feeling smug, Remus smoothed out a crumpled wing. It was only then that he caught sight of the familiar handwriting scratched along the inner crease.

He glared at the scrawl. Only Sirius would think it a grand idea to go about assaulting sleeping persons for the sake of sending a message. Growling under his breath, he unfolded the plane and read the note within:

_Meet me at the lake at lunch. Yours seriously, Lord B.V.D.G._

Typical Sirius, it was: short, stupid, and entirely unromantic – not that romance was to be expected, Remus told himself hastily. Sirius did not do romance, particularly not where his mates were concerned, even if he wanted to – to _kiss_ them. Or maybe he did. It wasn't like Remus had ever had the chance to find out.

Perhaps he'd find out at the lake. The thought sent his stomach twisting with anticipation. He would meet with the prat as per orders, of course; after all, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. The fact that Sirius was still exploiting the deal did not surprise Remus in the slightest.

He grinned and tossed the former plane over his shoulder.

A glance at his watch showed Remus that he was already in danger of spontaneously detonating, or whatever it was that breaking the deal would do. Good thing he'd unravelled that plane when he had – it was already after twelve! Remus flung himself into the nearest set of robes and was out the door without further delay.

Further delay caught up with him the moment he stepped off the staircase. The common room was bursting with students fresh from their morning classes, all of whom seemed intent on milling about and blocking Remus' path. He'd never seen such a congregation of Gryffindors away from the Great Hall at lunchtime. Normally everyone tossed their bags and legged it to the communal trough immediately.

Cursing the uncharacteristic dawdling going on around him, Remus edged and poked through the crowd, feeling quite ready to unpin his prefect's badge and jab his way out. It was with intense relief that he finally neared the portrait hole and joined the queue of students leaving for lunch.

Stuck between two giggling groups of fourth year girls, Remus strained his neck in a futile attempt to make out the cause of the sodding hold-up. All this waiting was giving his nerves ample opportunity to kick in and string out.

Trying very hard to keep calm – he was just meeting _Sirius_, after all – Remus cast a restless glance around the room and immediately wished he hadn't.

Barely three metres away, crouched behind his favourite sofa, two of his closest mates were well on the way to blowing Gryffindor Tower sky-high.

His hands were on his eyebrows in an instant. This infuriating mass of students was an _audience_, of course it was – an audience for the Marauders' latest prank, and oh, Merlin, this was the stupidest one yet. Forget all he'd said about that one time with the egg whisk and Mrs Norris' tail: this, this was the worst idea.

This was the apocalypse.

Hardly daring to breathe lest he puff them all to Hades, Remus stepped backwards and promptly collided with one smirking Lily Evans.

"Sleep well?" she asked lightly as if unaware that the world was about to end.

Wordlessly, Remus extended a single digit towards their impending doom.

Following his finger, Lily laughed. The sound set Remus' teeth on edge. "They're doing well, aren't they? Already up to a fourth floor, clever boys. Those first years won't know what hit them."

Remus spluttered, eyes fixed on the horrific spectacle before him. Even as he watched, James gave Peter the boost he needed to place a tray-sized King of Spades upon the topmost tier of their colossal house of cards. It was becoming terrifyingly clear that some suicidal maniac had magically enlarged a deck of exploding cards and placed them in the hands of idiots.

The Prefect in Remus was the only thing that kept him from legging it then and there. He turned to Lily and jerked his head at the idiots in question, a hint of hysteria in the motion.

"And this? You don't have a problem with it? Head Girl? Impending doom? _Shouldn't you be stopping this sort of thing_?"

Lily laughed again; Remus' teeth were positively grinding. "Why on earth would I do that? It was my idea."

"Oh," Remus managed, releasing his eyebrows in favour of his temples. "Well, in that case." With that said, he turned back to the show. He and Lily watched as Peter set an Ace of Hearts into place, causing the whole thing to shudder menacingly.

Remus wiped his palms on his robes, and the question flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. "What did they _do_ to deserve _this_?"

A dark and dangerous look flashed onto Lily's face. "_Wingardium leviosa_-ed my skirt in the Entrance Hall. Fourth time this month."

"Ah."

"Thought if they liked the Levitation Charm so much, they'd appreciate me levitating the eyebrows right off their stupid faces."

"And you saw James and Peter playing a round of Exploding Snap just now?" Remus guessed, hardly believing what he was hearing from the Head Girl.

"Had a brainwave," Lily confirmed, placing a hand on Remus' shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. "And then James volunteered, and what was I supposed to do? I couldn't say no, could I? You'd understand."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she said firmly, adding another squeeze for emphasis. "Sometimes you just have to go along with it, don't you? Sometimes you just have to say – _yes_."

Remus' eyes snapped away from the tottering card tower and onto Lily's knowing smirk. Her hint had thwacked him full in the face. James Potter had spilled the beans on the deal, and if the prat wasn't exploded in the next few minutes, Remus would do the job himself.

"Saying yes isn't such a bad thing, Remus," said Lily, a slightly more serious note working its way into her voice. "You didn't need a deal to work that one out. But I'll tell you what's even better."

"What?"

"Making your own decisions. Going for it without being asked. Don't wait for an invitation, just _do_ it, and do it for yourself. And do something for me, will you?"

"What?"

Lily grinned. "Say hi to Black for me. And tell him if he does anything stupid, I'll explode a card tower on his unsuspecting head."

And with that, she took a deep breath, strode up to the house of cards and tapped James firmly on the shoulder. Before Remus could do more than collapse about the jaw, Lily had pulled James down by the neck and attached her mouth to his. She was – she was – _kissing – _?

Peter blinked, a straight flush smoking in his arms. He looked about as dumbstruck as Remus felt. Taking this as his cue to escape, Remus edged his way out through the gawking students. Even as he pushed the Fat Lady back to her rightful place, a tremendous boom rocked the corridor.

It seemed a poetic conclusion to the whole affair.

Shaking his head at the sheer insanity of his life, Remus fled the wall of smoke coalescing in the corridor. At least Prongs had died a happy man; that was all anyone could hope for, in the end.

Having been woken by a swooping aeroplane and exploded from his common room, Remus truly appreciated the peace and quiet of the grounds as he found them. It was hard to stay shell-shocked in the sunshine.

Shielding his eyes, Remus peered in the direction of the Great Lake. And there he was: Sirius Black, cool as could be, back against a beech tree and head in a book.

The ordinariness of the whole thing did much towards unjangling Remus' nerves, though it didn't stop his heart from picking up the slack. He put his head down and jogged to the shore. Lunchtime wasn't over yet.

"The world just ended," he called in greeting as he ducked into the shade. "All our friends are dead. Are those sandwiches?"

Resting the book against his stomach, Sirius gave Remus a measuring sort of look that swept from his head to his toes.

"It ends when I say it ends," he replied, and tossed a sandwich Remus' way.

Remus barely caught it; every sinew in his body was busy rejangling. He sat down before his knees could give out. Those eyes shouldn't be _allowed_. Sirius shouldn't be allowed. He often wasn't, when it came to that, but _Merlin_. It really wasn't fair: Sirius didn't look the least bit flustered, not even slightly affected by nerves. He'd gone right back to his book, the nonchalant berk.

Stomach too busy twisting for sandwiches, Remus sat on his hands and waited. Page turn number three proved too much for his patience.

"Aren't you the least bit curious about the recently deceased and the manner in which they became such?" he burst out, unable to take more of this waiting. _He_ was supposed to be leaving _Sirius_ in suspense, not the other way around. "I'm not making it up, you know. Lily's gone and cremated them all. She was very neat about it."

When Sirius failed to do anything more than raise an eyebrow, Remus lost his temper and kicked that bloody book of his into the lake. They both watched as it floated away from the shore.

"That was yours," Sirius commented as a giant grey tentacle broke the surface of the water and prodded at the steadily bloating book. "I pinched it from your trunk."

Remus strained his eyes. "_Advanced Potion-Making_?"

"Yeah. Slughorn was right, you know. That was lurid stuff if ever I've seen lurid stuff. And I've seen – "

"Shut up, Sirius."

"All right."

Remus watched the tentacle hook around his hated Potions textbook and felt very little in the way of anguish and loss. The Giant Squid would probably get a lot more out of it than he ever did, and melt fewer cauldrons as well. He wished it luck.

"I say, Moony, you seem a little unsettled this afternoon."

Remus turned back to find Sirius staring at him, a note of concern on his face.

"Noticed, have you? You'd be unsettled too, if you'd had the morning I've just had. 'Unsettling' is a very apt description. It started out with a paper aeroplane assault, not that _you'd_ know anything about that, Lord Barkley van de Grimm."

Sirius leaned back with an appreciative sigh. "Now _that's_ what I like to hear, Moony! None of that 'darling' or 'baby' business – our pet names will be properly deferential."

"_Pet names_?"

"Oh yes. Can't let you kiss me if we don't have pet names. Wouldn't be proper."

Stomach flipping wildly, Remus kicked him in the ribs.

"Ouch!"

Sirius sat up and set his eyes glaring on Remus. He had the audacity to look wounded in that puppyish way of his. "Won't let you kiss me if you keep belting me around, either. Where'd all this wilful violence come from, then?"

Sitting back on his heels and inadvertently squishing his sandwiches, Remus pretended to give this some thought. "You know, I'm not entirely sure. Here, I'll give you another kick and think further on it."

"No need for that," said Sirius, nudging at Remus with the bony part of his knee. "Come on, sit down properly. And tell me how our nearest and dearest came to cark it."

Remus was perfectly happy to comply on both counts, and spent a good fifteen minutes describing the assorted tragedies of his short morning.

"And then she just grabbed him, right around the neck, you know, and – "

"Went for it," Sirius finished, shaking his head disbelievingly. "And just when you think you've got these red-heads figured out. She's off her trolley, she is. Mental. Prongs is a lucky bloke, may he rest in peace. And he will, you know. That's the way he would have chosen to go, snogging Evanses and making mischief. Makes a Marauder proud, it does."

Chuckling, Remus nodded. Sirius was right on the money where Lily was concerned. All the same, he couldn't help but think she'd had the right idea, just _going for it_ like she had. He wondered how it would feel, just reaching out and grabbing what he wanted.

Freeing, probably. And brilliant. And mental.

He blinked and glanced away as Sirius' lips curled into a smirk.

"I can't help but congratulate myself on the success of a cunning plan," he said with obvious amusement. "This deal worked out just as I wanted it to."

"With the deaths of your best mates?"

Sirius waved this aside with a hand that somehow ended up wrapped around Remus' fingers. "No, idiot." The fingers were squeezed. "The deal was to make you try new things, loosen up a little… acknowledge your latent desire to snog Siriuses of all shapes and sizes."

Eyes fixed on the lake, Remus gave a choking sort of cough and hoped that his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. Once again, the word 'why' was feeling particularly pertinent, but he forced himself to keep up the flippant tone of the conversation.

"I think 'slog' is the word you were looking for.'"

Sirius snorted rudely. "Yes, well, who knew you'd turn out to be none other than Moony the Merciless? It was fisticuffs one day, whiskey-filching the next. And all that from a prefect. I ask you."

There was no stopping the bubble of laughter that made its undignified passage through Remus' nose.

"Are these your 'golden words of gold' you were telling me about in detention?"

"And there are plenty more where those came from."

"I'm sure."

Giving in to temptation, Remus pulled their clasped hands onto his lap and started toying idly with indiscriminate fingers. It was hard to tell which belonged to Sirius and which belonged to him when they were all mixed up like that. He gave one finger an experimental stroke, and felt oddly bereft when Sirius snatched his hand back with a hiss.

Staring at his bare, empty fingers, Remus resisted the urge to snatch back, and waited for Sirius to speak. It took ages. It took so long that Remus had time to get nervous again. His eyes travelled across the lake, across the grounds, across the grass, and stopped with a halt at the sight of fidgeting hands.

Sirius was _fidgeting_?

Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably, forcing Remus' eyes upwards. "There's something I have to tell you, Moony. And you mightn't like it, I'm warning you now. It's about the deal."

Remus had to work to hold his gaze, an odd, tight feeling taking up in his insides. What was Sirius on about now? And why the warning? He wished he'd get on with it; he'd had enough with waiting for one day.

Sirius sighed heavily and scratched at his neck. "Look, I had to do something, all right? You weren't being at all receptive to my natural charms. Couldn't take the smallest hint, you infuriating sod."

Caught off guard, Remus stared. "What hints? There were no hints. You just went and whacked me in the face with your deal, and that was that."

"What about the time I sat on your knees and told you I fancied the trousers off you?"

"You'd just done the same to Peter!"

"Yeah, but I was joking then." Sirius said this like it made perfect sense, like Remus must have been particularly thick to miss the obvious.

"Tosser," Remus muttered below his breath.

"_Deferential_ pet names, thank you!"

"Oh, deferential yourself."

"I will."

And then came more silence, and more waiting, and Remus still hadn't a clue what Sirius was working his way up to. Something about the deal, it seemed. Well, Sirius certainly seemed intent on taking things seriously – or as seriously as someone so decidedly unserious could take things. Remus just wished he'd hurry up and get to the point, or at the very least stop fidgeting. He was sorely tempted to grab the guilty hand and stop it himself.

"Right then," Sirius began with the look of one bucking himself up for the worst. This held little comfort for Remus. "Right. Just – just remember that you were never forced to say yes to anything truly awful, yeah?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "I would have refused if I'd really wanted to, Sirius. It's not like I'd fling myself into the lake and perform a Mermish mating dance if you asked. Some things are more important than a magically-binding deal."

The look of pure relief that answered these words was more than mildly disconcerting.

"Exactly!" Sirius cried, shuffling away from the tree and closer to Remus. "Exactly. You did the stuff for a laugh, no harm done, no lasting consequences, 'no' means 'no', all that sort of thing. Really, the deal was a bit of fun."

"Well, I don't know about _that_," growled Remus, thinking back to his twin sets of detention and the fact that half the teachers in Hogwarts now thought him some sort of perverted maniac. "I mean, it had its upsides, I suppose – " he glanced quickly at Sirius and gave a helpless smile – "but it's set me up for a life of ulcers and heart attacks. The stress, you know."

Sirius nodded silently; his look of relief had all but faded away. Feeling one of those premature heart attacks coming on, Remus gave in to temptation and grabbed that restless hand with his own. Sirius looked down to their hands, and then back up at Remus, and smiled a rather nervy sort of smile.

"I'll just say it, shall I? Before you break my fingers off. Only, please don't. I need those fingers for the begging, the begging I'll be doing right after I've explained. So here it is." And with that, Sirius garbled something out so fast that Remus couldn't understand a word.

He blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"The deal's not binding!"

"The – the _deal's_ not _binding_?"

Feeling rather like he'd been _wingardium leviosa_-ed right off the ground, Remus took a moment to recover. And then another. And then he repeated the words to himself one more time, in case they started making sense.

"But I felt…" he quavered, clearly recalling the distinct sensation of magic travelling up his arm when they'd shaken hands on the deal.

Sirius laughed in an unsteady sort of way. "Yes! You felt. You felt my brand-new magical buzzer hidden in my hand, courtesy of those fine fellows over at Zonkos! Please don't kill me. You wouldn't kill your last remaining friend on this earth, would you? Especially not one who fancies the trousers off – "

"Magical buzzer," Remus all but growled, everything suddenly coming together with great, infuriating clarity. "You buzzed me with a _Zonkos product_." It wasn't a question. "You had me thinking I'd be summarily splinched if I so much as _breathed_ the word 'no.'"

"Remember the heart attacks, mate. Easy does it."

"I called McGonagall 'baby' to her face!"

"She liked it! Certainly, she hid it well, but – "

"_Sirius Black_." Remus made sure to fill these two words with as much menace and outrage as he could summon on short notice.

The aforementioned visibly quailed.

"Moony Moo, I would never put you in serious danger for anything as stupid as a deal. You do know that, don't you?"

Remus thought about this. He thought about it long and hard, mind running through a montage of all the humiliating orders that he had been saying yes to for over a fortnight. The word 'lurid' rang especially sharp in his ears.

When Sirius murmured an apologetic protest, Remus eased the pressure clamped on his hand, but aside from that, he was as silent and unmoving as a rock. It was Sirius' turn to wait – Sirius, the stupid prick behind this whole stupid affair. Sirius may have joined him in detention, but Sirius wasn't a _prefect_, and the teachers had already known that _he_ was of a particularly perverted breed.

But Remus was already having trouble connecting the boy at his side with his very righteous sense of ire. It didn't matter that Sirius deserved it. It took two to make a deal, and Sirius had upheld his end. And look where that had left them: kissing in a kitchen cupboard. Not the worst moment of the past fortnight, and possibly the best of Remus' life.

And all of a sudden, as unexpected as a stream of violet bubbles to the head, Lily's words from earlier flashed into focus in Remus' mind. _'Don't wait for an invitation, just do it, and do it for yourself.'_ If the past fortnight had taught him nothing else, it was that he had been taking the lead from others for far too long. Even this bloody unbinding deal was designed to nudge Remus towards taking a chance that he never would have taken himself.

The deal was a mistake. Remus had been saying yes for far too long. It was time to _act_, and Merlin help Sirius if he tried to say no.

Taking a deep breath, Remus scrounged up his courage and shoved back his ire, and prepared to behave like a Gryffindor for once in his life.

"Sirius, you unrelenting bastard," he began, his voice sharp as he climbed to his feet and pulled Sirius up behind him.

Sirius beamed winningly with panic in his eyes. His usual haughtiness and composure had all but disapparated away, leaving a rather twitchy boy attached to a rather fidgety hand, and, angry as he was, Remus had never wanted to kiss anyone so much in his life.

So he did.

He went for it as he had once before, only this time there was no Firewhiskey, no deal, no pressure or confusion or anything but the crush of Sirius' mouth and the hot breath on his cheek and the beech tree climbing up against his back. He could taste the desperation in Sirius' mouth, the uncertainty that was soon replaced by fervour. He let everything go but the thought that he should have been doing this for _years_, and if it took a stupid deal, and the whole Hogwarts staff to think him a pervert –

And it was precisely then that Sirius pulled away gasping something that sounded like "public place" and "you little exhibitionist, Moony, didn't know you had it in you."

Remus felt himself flushing all over and didn't care in the least. "Behind a tree," he croaked, hands still clamped on Sirius' forearms. A moment later, he closed his eyes and groaned. "Oh _Merlin_, we're in a public place."

"Yes, we are," Sirius confirmed, nodding fervently. He looked awed. He looked absolutely blown away. Without a word of warning, he shook his head and tugged Remus unceremoniously to the ground.

"Anyone would think you were trying to lose your precious prefect's badge," he scolded in a breathless voice, obviously trying not to laugh. His grey eyes were flashing with the triumphant look he'd often get after pulling off a particularly foolish prank. "Never thought I'd see the day when Loony Lupin started snogging me in public."

Remus grumbled and pushed the prat away, only to secure a lapful of Sirius two seconds later.

"Having given it some thought, I'd like to see it again. Proceed with the snogging, go on. That's an order."

"I don't take orders," said Remus, staring hard into Sirius' delighted eyes, "and I only say yes when I want to, and I demand occasional seriousness from my companions. Are we clear?"

Sirius' smile took up his entire face. "Clear."

"It's a deal, then," said Remus, leaning closer with a smirk, and when he kissed Sirius, he did it for himself. And when he pushed the smug bastard in the lake seconds later, he did that for himself as well.

No one had ever said _he_ had to take things seriously.

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**THE END**

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**A/N: And it's over! And it was **_**fun**_**. And I'm sure I'll be typing madly away at a new story very shortly, as I can't get enough of these characters. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you thought of this story. **

**Until next time!**

**xx Froody**


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